Not a Terrible Reality
by Danae Dixon
Summary: Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, help General O'Neill find his missing wife... and find a way home? S/J
1. Chapter 1: You're Not Sam

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon. Mention of other minor characters.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

_**Spoilers:**__ Up till __Zero Hour (08.04)__, especially __Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Learning Curve (03.05), 2010 (04.16), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), The Changeling (06.19), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill.

**Not A Terrible Reality**

_**Chapter 1: You're Not Sam**_

_Another mission successfully accomplished_, Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter thought, with no little satisfaction, as she walked down the ramp leading from the Stargate. Her teammates, Dr. Daniel Jackson and Teal'c, followed close behind, both exuding an equal amount of pleasure at a job well done. _This leader of SG-1 thing is a snap_, she thought to herself_._

She hid a smile as she wondered what the former leader of SG-1 would say if she were ever to speak that thought aloud.

"Sam! Thank God!" came the voice of the man himself, the newly-promoted Brigadier General Jack O'Neill, as he came charging into the Gateroom. Before she had time to register either his words or his tone, she found herself enveloped in a ferocious hug. One hand behind her head, he breathed her in; mouth against her neck, he whispered her name.

"Uh... si—" her protest died stillborn as he pulled back suddenly, and took her by the shoulders. "Don't you ever do that to me again!" he almost shouted at her. "Daniel, Teal'c," he nodded to her companions. "You either." He gave them a stern gaze. "I'm serious."

He looked back to Sam, and she saw in him a hunger that she had long known was simmering beneath the surface. "Airmen, avert your eyes," he ordered. The sentries grinned in response, and before she knew what was happening, Sam found herself dipped in her General's very powerful arms, his lips pressed hard on hers.

Well, this was wrong.

Oh, it wasn't just that General O'Neill was calling her Sam, and hugging her, and then the kissing thing. The kissing, right there, out in the open, thing! The kiss itself felt as wrong as the circumstances. Off, somehow. Sam had only kissed the Colonel – General – one time, very early on in their acquaintance, when she had been under the influence of a virus that had caused her to regress to some embarrassingly hussy-ish point on the evolutionary scale. But she remembered those kisses all too well. She recalled just how they had felt, even now, over seven years later. How everything had just seemed to fit, how it had felt so... right. Those kisses, stolen and precipitous and raw as they had been, had sustained her through years of being so close to the Colonel, and yet so far from where she really – if she was honest with herself – wanted to be.

This kiss did not compare in the slightest.

General O'Neill seemed to feel the same way about it. "Huh," he said, giving her a quizzical look, and placing her back on her own feet.

Abruptly taking in the subtle differences in the General's uniform, the patches on the Airmen's shoulders, and the color of the walls in the Gateroom, not to mention his outright affectionate – and downright court martialable – behaviour, Sam came to a belated realisation.

"Oh, boy," she said, and flicked a glance at Daniel and Teal'c. She saw understanding dawn in their eyes.

The General was still staring at her, and he seemed to come to a realisation as well.

"You're... not Sam," he said flatly.

"Oh, no, I am. I am Sam. Sam I... am." She trailed off, her mouth quirking and eyes closing briefly, as she realised just how lame that had sounded. "I'm just not... not _your _Sam."

General O'Neill seemed to be taking a moment to process her words. She expected the next thing out of his mouth to be an order to take them into custody. It's what she thought their General O'Neill would have done.

He surprised her.

"Alternate reality, huh?" he asked casually, an eyebrow raised.

Sam allowed herself a relieved sigh that she wasn't going to have to convince him. "I'm thinking," she nodded.

The General nodded in return. "Well, then. Would someone care to explain to me where the hell I can find my wife?"

_His wife! She and he were...? Um. Wow. Again?_

"I... uh... I really don't know, sir," she responded, aiming for nonchalance in the face of this unexpected complication. "I don't even know how we came to be here and not in our own SGC."

"Where did you come from?"

"Sir?"

"Which planet, Sam! I mean, _not_, er, Sam."

Sam felt herself come to parade ground attention, her body unconsciously preparing her to make a formal report to a superior officer. O'Neill watched her with something approaching amusement, clearly not used to seeing his Sam Carter in such a posture.

"Sir. We were performing routine recon, on P5C-429. Scouting for—"

"Goa'uld technology that may have been left behind by Ra, a reference to which Daniel discovered in one of his dusty old tomes. Or was it on a dusty old tomb? It's so hard to keep track."

"That's the one. You know it, sir?"

"I know the mission. It was the very one my Sam and her team were on when they lost contact with us. Over two weeks ago." The worry in his tone was unmistakable. He took a breath, gathering himself. "Was there anything that happened there, anything that might explain—"

SG-1 shook their heads, as one.

"It was actually a pretty standard mission, Jack," Daniel told him reassuringly. "No technology, just a ruined temple filled with fairly innocuous-seeming carvings in an obscure dialect that will take me months to translate fully, and which may or may not lead to something. But there was nothing on the planet—at least, not in our version of the planet—that would have kept us from getting home."

"That is correct, O'Neill," Teal'c corroborated. "We were on the surface for a mere twenty-four hours, and even Daniel Jackson considered that time more than sufficient to his purposes."

"Huh!" The General cocked an eyebrow at Daniel, looking as though he didn't quite believe it. Daniel shrugged a shoulder in rueful acknowledgement of his well-known insistence on spending far longer than anyone else – other than, at times, Sam – wanted on every nondescript planet they visited.

O'Neill gave him a half-smile, and rubbed his hands together. "Well. Since you're here, we might as well get you comfortable, while we try to figure this whole thing out," he said jovially. "Just give me a minute to get things squared away—"

Sam stood with Daniel and Teal'c a moment, watching as this other General O'Neill gave orders for quarters to be prepared for "my not-wife and her not-team." She looked at him, fascinated; he was just like their own General in every particular, except... not quite.

Teal'c and Daniel were, in turn, looking at her, awaiting her reaction to this turn of events. "So..." she said slowly, "another alternate reality adventure. How're you doing, Daniel? You tired of these yet?"

"The question is, Sam, how are _you_ doing?" Daniel replied with a pointed glance at the carbon copy of their friend and commanding officer.

"Indeed, Colonel Carter. I am intrigued to hear your thoughts on this happenstance."

"Uh..." Sam attempted to gather her wits. Glancing up at them through her lashes, she asked, with an attempt at diffidence: "Do you think in _every _reality except ours, he and I are—" she shifted uncomfortably, unable to complete the sentence.

"Yep," Daniel said simply.

"It would seem so," Teal'c concurred.

"I..." Sam was at a loss. "I don't know what to say."

She thought of all those other Sams, all of them with their Jack O'Neills. And she with her _General_ O'Neill. And her Pete, of course! Pete, to whom she would _not_ be telling the story of this wacky mission, whenever they managed to make it back to their own Earth. Or she may tell him about it, but in a very edited version of events; one in which her commanding officer was _not_ her husband.

"Let's get you down to Ol' Doc Fraiser," said the other Sam's husband now, returning to her side, "get you checked out, make sure the whole—"

"Janet's here?" Sam's eyes lit up.

"Uh, no," O'Neill shook his head, causing the light to dim. "She's off-world, Chief of Medicine at the new xeno-whatever-it-is centre on P6S-412. Do you know it? Pangar? But Cassie's here..."

"Cassie? Cassie's seventeen."

"And with all the accumulated medical knowledge of half the doctors in the galaxy. Ever since we allied with the Orbanians, and we were able to modify their nanite technology..."

"You use nanites?" Sam couldn't keep the incredulity from her voice.

"Well, not personally. Can't stand the creepy little head-sucky things. Pretty sure they're gonna take over the world one day. But until then, we need all the able-bodied – and minded – people we can get to fight this war."

"War?" Daniel queried. "With the Goa'uld?"

"Those snake-heads? Hmmph." O'Neill waved a dismissive hand. "They're the least of our problems."

"What?" Sam's eyes opened wide at the very idea of a galaxy in which the constant threat of the Goa'uld wasn't a major concern. "Are you having, um, Replicator issues?"

"Repli-_what_-or issues?"

Sam blinked, dumbfounded, and Daniel stepped in with the explanation. "Self-replicating bug-like machines, hell-bent on galactic domination?"

O'Neill cocked his head to one side. "Hmm. Not ringing any bells. Your universe sounds like it has much cooler villains than ours, though. We, I'm sorry to tell you, are in a fight to the death with a civilization of insurance salesmen called..."

Sam and Daniel drew in a breath, and even Teal'c abandoned his trademark stoicism momentarily. "Oh, don't say it," Daniel begged.

"... the Aschen."


	2. Chapter 2: No Junior?

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon. Mention of other minor characters.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Learning Curve (03.05), 2010 (04.16), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), The Changeling (06.19), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill.

**Not A Terrible Reality**

_**Chapter 2: No Junior?**_

"The Aschen? Oh, no." Sam's brow furrowed in deep concern.

"Yeah. The Aschen. You've met, I assume?"

"We've met," Daniel affirmed. "We don't like them."

"Us either. Though, it kinda took us a while. When we first went through their Stargate, we thought all our Christmases had come at once. Hannukahs and Kwanzas and Fourths of July, too. It was only when Sam found out she couldn't, that we couldn't... well." The General huffed a breath. "Let's just say, if not for the Aschen, she probably wouldn't have been off-world at all to get herself replaced by you, Not-Sam."

"Why not?"

"Uh, well..." Jack rubbed his neck. "We don't usually encourage... ah... pregnant women to lead SG teams," he told them.

"Oh. I'm... I mean, she's pregnant? Your Sam?" Colonel Carter looked up at General Jack O'Neill, limpid blue eyes shining. In his brown eyes she saw a deep sadness, and instantly regretted the question.

"No," he shook his head. "Not. It was in the plan, but the Aschen.... well, they came to us with this wonder pill, this miracle cure-all drug..."

Sympathy broke out on the faces of SG-1, as they realised where this was going.

"... that was supposed to eliminate all our woes, extend our lives, make everyone cancer-free and, I don't know, put an end to baldness and bad breath and restless leg syndrome. The President, the Government, everyone was all for it, but Sam.... she felt like something hinky was going on."

Teal'c cocked an eyebrow. "Was Colonel Carter the only member of the SGC who looked askance at the Aschen's equine present, O'Neill?"

A chuckle. "I think you mean "gift horse" there, Not-T. And, no. We both had our doubts. Sam had a more a science-based problem with them, but me... well, I don't know if you noticed it, but the Aschen have a very odd sense of humour. By which I mean they have no sense of humour at all. Suspicious. So Sam... she took the damned drug, and accelerated its effects using some Ancient device we confiscated off that nutjob, Nirrti—"

"And she discovered that the Aschen way to take over a planet is to make war not on the population, but on their reproductive system?"

The General barked a short, mirthless laugh. "Yes, Daniel. Exactly. Make the indigenous life infertile, and all of a sudden your one-time ally becomes your very own critically-endangered labor force. Patient little Machiavellis, I'll give them that." He cocked his head to one side. "They do the same to you people?"

"Well, I'm guessing they would've tried. But we met them on a planet called Volia, and our Colonel had a bad feeling about them there, too." She paused. "I even think _his_ bad feeling was also sense of humor-related. So he sent Daniel and Teal'c to dig a little deeper into what had happened when Volia joined the Aschen Confederacy, and they did dig deeper... literally. They discovered the ruins of an advanced city and some well-preserved newspapers spelling out the Aschen's evil plan."

Daniel darted her a glance, appearing hurt, as though he felt she were underselling his work in translating the text that helped expose the conspiracy.

"But, you know. It was spelled out in Volian." She patted the archaeologist on the arm. "Good thing Daniel figured it out."

"Also," Daniel held up a finger, sending a half-smile of satisfaction Sam's way, "there was this thing that had happened the year before, where we got a note from the future, from you, telling us to steer clear of the Aschen planet."

Jack stared at him for a long moment. "Yes. Well. We didn't get any note from future-me, but luckily, the President listened to present-me anyway. Negotiations broke down pretty fast after what Sam had to say. The Aschen did not take kindly to my wife's little extra-curricular research project... and neither, by the way, did I." He glared at Carter, as though she were responsible for her alter-ego's actions. "What did they do when _you_ kicked them off the planet?"

"They did nothing, O'Neill," Teal'c answered. "Earth's political leaders," he made the words sound like a curse, "had promised the Aschen five Stargate addresses in return for their assistance, which Colonel Carter was permitted to select." Teal'c paused, and if he could ever have been thought to have a mischievious glint in his eye, it was right then. "The first series of glyphs led to a black hole."

"And they were never heard from again," Sam concluded, with simple pleasure.

O'Neill raised his eyebrows. "Impressive." He shook his head. "We, however, did not have a convenient black hole to which to send them. Instead, a couple of months later, they showed up on the deep space sat system, and if it weren't for the Tollan ion cannons we had emplaced on Jupiter, it probably would have been all over for us then."

"The Tollan _gave_ you ion cannons? Woah. Our Jack is gonna be _pissed._"

The General looked puzzled. "Why _wouldn't _they give us ion cannons? We saved their genius butts!"

"Trust me. Doesn't always help."

"But, sir..." Sam strove to get them back on point. "I take it the ion cannons didn't completely solve the problem?"

He chuckled. "Hardly. Apparently having a fleet of their most advanced spaceships destroyed by a bunch of primitives such as us really got their actuarial dander up. But having met those guys, how were we supposed to know they even _had_ dander?"

Their party had, by this time, reached the medical bay, and as he led them inside, Sam, Daniel and Teal'c looked around in amazement. Instead of the cold, clinical grey walls and minimalist – to be generous – decor they had expected, the medical facility in this reality was a symphony in pastel walls and bedding, diaphanous, billowy curtains and lush, dense greenery.

"Um... wow. This is some House of Healing you have here," Daniel complimented, adjusting his glasses.

"Hell, it's not my idea," O'Neill groused. "Damn Pangarans have some touchy-feely laughter-is-the-best-medicine notions that make Patch Adams look like Dr. Kevorkian."

Sam flashed him one of her hundred-watt smiles, and Jack felt his breath catch. This woman, this Not-Sam, was clearly not _his_ Sam – if nothing else had tipped him off, the way she called him "sir" all the time would have – but she also _was _Sam_. _It was confusing. He didn't like it at all. He wanted his wife back!

He caught himself staring, and hastily cleared his throat. "Oh, Doc Fraiser?" he sung out, a smile in his voice.

"Jack!" came the slightly breathless cry on a giggle, and several curtains were parted to reveal the labcoat-clad person of Cassandra Fraiser. Taking in the sight of those accompanying the General, her pretty young face broke out into a sunny smile. "Sam! Daniel! Teal'c! You're back! Oh, I am so relieved, we have been so—"

She rushed forward to hug them, but was restrained by a powerful arm from her CO. "Woah, hold up there, little Doc. Let's not get carried away. These guys may look like the genuine article, but I'm afraid there's been some copyright infringement going on."

"Jack, what are you—? Copyright infringement?" Cassie's eyes clouded. "They're... clones?"

"No! We're not!" Sam protested. "General," she admonished Jack, though with an indulgent grin, and he found himself more confused by her than ever. She had been so overweeningly respectful of his exalted person up until this point that he had assumed their relationship in the Otherwhere was – as difficult as it was for him to imagine – one of a purely platonic nature. Senior officer to subordinate all the way. And yet here she was, taking him to task for his slightly off-kilter sense of the ridiculous, even while seeming to enjoy it, just as his own Sam might've done.

Hmm. An engima.

"Cassie, as the General _well_ knows," she aimed a punishing frown his way, "we are... well, we're us, just from a different place in time. You see, there are an infinite number of universes existing beside one another, and somehow we have found ourselves—"

"Alternate reality again. Okay, got it." Cassie took the news with aplomb. "At least this time you don't have that weird long hair thing going on."

Sam smiled ruefully, remembering her own encounter with a long-haired Samantha Carter, as Cassie motioned all three of the newcomers to follow her into an examination area.

"So, Cassie," Daniel began, as the young girl instructed various assistants to prepare them for the usual routine testing they underwent every time they came through the Stargate. "A doctor, huh? Last I heard—at least, in our timeline—you wanted to be an archaeologist."

Cassie's cheeks heated a little as she cast her eyes downward. "I... uh... well, I don't want to tell tales on myself, but I pretty much only said that so I'd have an excuse to come and hang out with you in your lab."

Daniel blinked, disappointed and flattered in equal measure. As Cassie made to take his arm, in order to draw blood, he reflexively pulled away from her teenage self, eyes going wide.

"Chill, Daniel. I'm over you."

"Oh." Daniel hoped he took this news with an appearance of equanimity, and tried to ignore the palpable amusement coming his way from his team, their attendant nurses, and the local variant of his best friend.

"In fact," Cassie went on, seemingly oblivious to the embarrassment she had caused him by her confession, "I have a boyfriend now, and, believe me, _he _is fully aware that I am now all grown up."

She moved over to Sam, and drew blood from her, as well. Sam looked on fondly, and marveled at the sight of this poised, professional, remarkable young woman before them. This _doctor_ before them!

"Cass..." she said, eyes tender. "A doctor! Your Mom would've been... uh, I mean, _must be_ so proud."

"What do you mean _would've been_... oh. In your universe, she—"

"Sorry, Cassie." Sam's eyes gleamed. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"No. It's okay." Cassie swallowed hard, an answering gleam in her own eyes." We actually almost lost Mom last year," her face darkened, "to an Aschen energy weapon. Luckily, we got her into the sarcophagus in time..."

"You have a _sarcophagus?_" Daniel and Sam burst our simultaneously, with the exact same emphasis.

The General gave them a wry twist of his lips. "I gotta ask, how have you people managed to survive so long? What's with the lack of alien technology thing? What, do you have some kind of Prime Directive or something?"

Daniel slid a sidelong glance at Teal'c. "Did Jack just make a _Star Trek_ reference?"

"I believe so."

"This really _is_ a brave new world."

"Right," Cassie said with finality, putting a stop to their banter. "Let's just get you all to walk through the Snake Detector, and you're cleared for duty. Or... whatever."

"Snake Detector?"

Cassie thrust aside yet another curtain, and pointed to a familiar-looking, rune-engraved obelisk.

"No, don't tell me," O'Neill said. "You don't have one of _these, _either."

"Thor's Hammer!" Daniel exclaimed. It was much smaller than the one they had discovered on Cimmeria, but if it did what its name here suggested it did (a name bestowed, no doubt, by Jack), then it clearly served the same purpose: to sense the presence of Goa'uld in a host and transport them to a safe location for later removal.

"I like my name better," O'Neill commented dryly.

Sam stood in front of the device, placing her feet neatly in the box painted on the floor and helpfully labeled "Stand Here." A blue beam flashed out from the stone pillar and scanned her body. Finding nothing amiss, the beam shut down.

Daniel stepped forward and the procedure repeated itself. He stepped aside, allowing Teal'c to take his place. Cassie immediately objected, and attempted to pull the big man aside. "Oh no, Teal'c, of course you do not need to..."

The blue light flashed out again, scanned his formidable bulk, and diminished again, leaving the Jaffa warrior standing in place.

"Ah... Teal'c? You missing something?"

"Indeed, O'Neill. I am no longer obliged to endure the presence of a Goa'uld within my body. I, and many of my brothers, are now truly free Jaffa."

"No Junior?"

"Indeed not."

"Well. There's a concept."

Cassie was staring up at Teal'c, clearly fascinated. "But... how? The symbiote provided you with your immune system... how is this possible?"

"Wait," Daniel was perplexed. "I thought you said you knew the Pangarans. Do they not have tretonin in this reality?"

"Tretonin!" General O'Neill made a face. "Ew. That stuff is Goa'uld frappé!" He looked at Teal'c with something approaching distaste.

"Well, yes," Daniel allowed. "But the Tok'ra have managed to find an alternative ingredient, and..."

"The who now?" O'Neill asked.

Daniel grew quiet. "Huh. Tollan ion canons, Thor's Hammer in the SGC _and_ no Tok'ra. Jack would really love this place."

Teal'c cocked his head to. "Do you not believe O'Neill's marriage to Colonel Carter to also be a factor in his opinion of this reality, Daniel Jackson?"

The two men shared a meaningful glance as Daniel nodded his head in blithe agreement, and Sam pretended not to hear this by-play, even as she puzzled over the exact meaning of this somewhat cryptic comment.

"Where... where did you _get _this... this Mini-Hammer?" Daniel asked Jack suddenly, his face lighting. "If it's on the same world in our universe, and if we could bring it to our SGC... oh, wouldn't you just _love_ to get Ba'al in front of this thing?" His enthusiasm for this project had him pacing, his expressive hands moving in rapid, dizzying motion.

"We found it on... hmm. Cimmeria?

Daniel stopped dead. "Oh. By the gate?"

"Yep."

"Ah."

"What's up? You can still go and get it..."

"No, we... ah... destroyed it. Ours, I mean." Daniel shook his head. "I was just hoping there was another one somewhere... the Hammer on our Cimmeria was much bigger."

"You _destroyed_ it? That was somewhat... hasty, don'tcha think?"

"We had to, or Teal'c would still be trapped in there."

"A fate that I would gladly have accepted, had O'Neill deemed it necessary. I am, however, pleased that he did not." Teal'c gave General O'Neill a small, dignified bow.

"No kidding. I guess we're just lucky our Teal'c was being held for questioning by that toad, Simmons, when we went and found ourselves this little baby." He made a face. "Can't believe I have to be grateful to _that _guy for something..."

"But, Daniel," Cassie piped up, "without the Snake Detector, how did you save Sha're?"

All three of the newcomers' heads snapped around to look at her.

"Sha're?" Daniel faltered, a flash of pain in suddenly clouded blue eyes. "Do you mean she's—"

Before Daniel could finish the question, however, the sound of footfalls could be heard entering the medical bay. "Cassie, sweetie, are you here?" came a voice through the curtains. A kind of familiar voice, Sam thought. Wait! Was that—?

The curtains parted, and there he stood: Ambassador Joe Faxon, alive and well, and holding a bunch of red roses in one hand.


	3. Chapter 3: Not Ducks

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon. Mention of other minor characters.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Learning Curve (03.05), 2010 (04.16), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), The Changeling (06.19), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill.

**Not A Terrible Reality**

_**Chapter 3: Not Ducks**_

"'Sweetie'?" Teal'c repeated in his deep voice, rising, every protective bone in his considerable body seeming to come to the fore. An intimidating eyebrow climbed, and he gave Ambassador Faxon a glare that was every particle as devastating as a blast from the staff weapon he wielded in the field so effectively.

"Stand down, big fella," O'Neill ordered, sounding amused. "It's o—"

"You support this union, O'Neill?" Teal'c demanded, outraged. "Joseph Faxon is not at all a suitable mate for Doctor Fraiser. He is far too aged, for one so young."

"Hey!" the Ambassador protested. "I resent that!"

Teal'c stared at him coldly. "I do not believe this is of concern to me. You may resent my words or otherwise, Joseph Faxon. They are, nonetheless, the truth."

"Teal'c." the Ambassador was clearly trying to keep his voice even, drawing on his years of diplomacy in an attempt to soothe the savage Jaffa. "I don't think I quite understand your objections, especially as you were the one who introduced us, and encouraged us to..."

"I?" Teal'c turned to Carter and Daniel. "I have grave concerns about this world."

"Teal'c, calm down." Jack's shoulders were shaking in what could only be described as repressed merriment, and he turned to Faxon, his eyes alight with it. "Joe, why don't you tell the frightening father-figure over here for whom those roses are intended?

"These?" Joe was puzzled. "They're... for my wife."

"Your—?" It was Sam who burst out with the question. In their own reality, she and Joe Faxon had shared more than a few moments of mutual interest while working together to investigate the Aschen. The fact that she had been forced to leave him behind in order to get back to the SGC in time to save the planet from an Aschen engineered bio-weapon still haunted her. And yet, here, he wasn't trapped on an hostile world, and he was married to someone else. They both were!

"Yes, my wife. I'm about the leave for Pangar, and Janet loves rose—"

"Janet!" Sam was even more taken aback. Joe and Janet? "I..." she recovered quickly. "That's... that's great! Congratulations, Joe!"

"Congratulations? Sam? You were matron of honor at our wedding!" He looked around the room in perplexity. "Just what is going on here?"

"Hey, Joe?" the General decided to put him out of his incredulous misery. "Whaddya know? _She_ was _not _the matron of honor at your wedding. Y'see, this isn't so much Sam as it is a pretty good Xerox of Sam."

Joe blanched visibly. "A... she's a clone? Wha—?"

"General, would you _please_ stop that!" Sam Carter ordered crossly. "No, _not _aclone! The three of us," she indicated herself, Daniel and Teal'c, "we're... well, there are infinite universes the exist side by side, and we—"

"Alternate reality?" Joe nodded, as though everything were all now satisfactorily explained. "I see."

SG-1 shared a look. "Out of curiosity, just how many times have you people encountered your other universe selves?" Daniel asked.

"A few," O'Neill replied dismissively. "At least this time we won't have to deal with that twitchy, glitchy thing that made everyone look like they'd come down with a bad case of the Ed Woods."

"The Ed Woods, sir?"

"_Really _bad special effects."

"Oh. The entropic cascade failure," Sam nodded, then paused, considering. "Sir... I'm not sure that we have. Avoided it, I mean."

"Oh?"

"Sir, the theory goes that entropic cascade failure occurs when two beings made up of the same basic matter in the same configuration exist in the same universe simultaneously. Not the same location, but the same _reality_. So, if your SG-1 are still in this reality, and still alive, then the convulsions should begin to occur... well, in a matter of days, at the most."

"If they're _still alive?_" A look of abject pain, quickly smothered, covered the General's weathered face, which he chose to replace with a fulminating glare.

"Uh... I'm sorry, sir. I shouldn't have said that."

Jack held Sam's – no, dammit, Colonel Carter's – gaze for a long moment, and shook his head a little in silent forgiveness. It was hard to have it put so baldly, but it wasn't as though he hadn't been entertaining the thought for much of the previous two weeks. It was just that hearing Sam – Carter! Damn! – say it aloud, quite matter-of-factly, while ruminating on the scientific implications, made it hit home all the harder.

His own Sam would have done the same thing.

"I, too, must apologise," Teal'c intoned into the silence. "To you, Joseph Faxon. My words were in error, and I ask your forgiveness."

"You have it."

"Yes. Let's all sing Kumbayah later, alright? And it's not like there's no silver lining here," the General said in a light tone, trying to lighten the suddenly oppressive mood. "You thinking Joe and Cassie were an item, T... that was just funny. And as for our missing Version 1.0 SG-1... the fact that this cascade thingy should kick in at some point means we'll know for sure what we're dealing with a couple of days from now, if not sooner. So," he rubbed his hands together in a familiar, let's-get-down-to-business gesture, "how about we get you out of here, and we see what we can do about making 'sooner' happen, huh?"

"Wait!" Daniel objected strongly, coming abruptly out of the deep reverie into which he had slipped at the mention of his dead wife, in which he had seemed oblivous to all conversation around him. "While I am, of course, very happy for Janet and Joe, and very anxious for you to retrieve your people, Jack, can we please return to the most important revelation of the past few minutes?" He turned to Cassandra. "Sha're...?" The yearning contained in that one word was naked, heart-breaking, and Cassie found herself at a loss.

"I'm sorry, Daniel. She..." she shook her head, and Daniel reached out an imploring hand toward her.

"I thought you said that she was saved? That Amaunet was no longer..."

"Oh, no, she's not a Goa'uld anymore. But she's... she's on Abydos. And not... not here." the young girl flailed her arms around helplessly, trying to find a way to tell Daniel some information that he was obviously not going to enjoy hearing.

"Ah." This from Jack, a hand going to Daniel's shoulder in silent condolence. "Didn't work out there, Danny," he said gently. "Worlds. Colliding. It... can be a problem."

Daniel took a moment to process Jack's words.

"She's... we're not..."

"She left. Went home. Sorry."

Daniel looked as though he had been kicked in the stomach by an army of enemy Jaffa.

"But not to worry, though," Jack said bracingly. "Your new girlfriend's really... something." He paused, thinking of how best to proceed. "Not exactly big on modesty or discretion, admittedly, and I'm in no way suggesting I'd leave the silver lying around when she's over for dinner, but she's... well, she's certainly... something." He paused.. "Did I say that already?"

Daniel met this in stony silence.

"Too bad she's off-world, trying to rustle us up some spare parts for our ring transporters, or you could see her for yourself."

"You have your own ring transporters?" Daniel affected awe.

"Oh, come on! Surely you could've at least gotten your hands on a few sets of those?"

"Yes. I was kidding."

"Oh."

"So," Daniel said brightly. "To summarise: Sha're, the woman whose loss I have been mourning for over seven years, one way or another, in this reality dumped me in order to go back to Abydos where she could live in a tent and get sand in every orifice at all times of the day and night. I, meanwhile, for some reason allowed this to happen, and am now dating a brazen and, by the sounds of it, tawdry sneak thief, who you can only describe as... 'something'?"

"Whom," the General corrected. "And, yep. That's about the size of it."

"Okay." A sad smile of infinite sweetness broke out on Daniel's handsome face. "Good to know. Now... where were we?"

"We were on our way out of here, so we can get back to worrying about _my_ wife," O'Neill answered testily, and with a roll of his eyes and a sweeping motion of his arm, he ushered the three newcomers out of the medical bay.

With a smile and a caress for Cassie, and a fond handshake for Joe Faxon, Sam obligingly followed the General down the familiar halls. She looked around her in astonishment. It was so... ordinary! Prosaic, even. She, alone of her team, had yet to enter an alternate reality, and so was still a novice when it came to dealing with the constant there-but-for-the-grace-of-God feeling that being in a such a place engendered. It was like being inside a particularly vivid dream, one that was so completely real it seemed like normality, until it transpired that you worked at a circus, or could breathe underwater, or were married to Bono or someone.

Sam supressed a smile as she realised that in this particular almost dream-like reality in which she found herself, one of her fondest – though usually hastily-denied – dreams had come true. She listened with half her attention as the General shared tidbits of information with Daniel and Teal'c about the ongoing war with the Aschen, but the majority of her brain was caught up in a "what if" fantasy scenario that she had found herself experiencing more and more often in later years.

_Cut it out, Sam! _sheberated herself. _He's your commanding officer. You have Pete. And he probably doesn't even feel that way about you in your own universe. Not anymore. So, just, stop it!_

_But what if...? _

Shaking her head to clear away this forbidden, though frequent, thought, she followed General O'Neill and her teammates in to the briefing room. There, they were greeted by the sight of a familiar Air Force Major. Though dressed in green BDUs, and not the immaculately turned-out full uniform in which he was normally to be seen, there was no mistaking his compact form and pleasant, serious face.

"Major Davis!" Sam blurted. She and her teammates exchanged a worried glance. If Major Davis was in the SGC, then major trouble must surely have been brewing.

"Hey, you're back! And, um... it's Colonel now, Colonel," Davis responded, giving her a slight frown. "It's, er, nice to see you, too."

"Oh, sorry. _Colonel. _It's just that you're still a Major where..."

"Where they come from, Davis," the General finished for her. "This Colonel Carter that you see before you is not the Colonel Carter that you know so well. This, my friend, is not what we would call the genuine article. And, no," he continued, forestalling both Sam and Davis, as one was about to protest that she was _not _a clone, and the other about to ask if she was, "they're _not_ clones. They're... them. Except not."

It took Davis less than a second to translate General O'Neill's flippancy. "Alternate reality? Right. Welcome." He encompassed all of SG-1 in his generosity.

"Thanks!" Sam grinned.

"Uh... good to be here," Daniel said, heavy on the irony.

"I disagree, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c said seriously. "I would prefer to be in our own reality."

"Right. Sorry, Teal'c. Good point."

"Nice to see he's just as literal on the other side of the looking glass," O'Neill commented dryly.

"So, Davis," Daniel said, as Teal'c pointedly ignored their taunts. "What's the big emergency? Kidnapped personnel? Pilots lost in space? The end of the world as we know it?"

"I'm sorry?"

"I think what Daniel means, Colonel, is what brings you to the SGC?" Sam attempted to explain.

"Uh... I work here."

"You wor—"

"Davis here is the leader of SG-12," O'Neill informed them. Taking in their surprise, he added: "I take it this is not so in your crazy, mixed-up world?"

Davis awaited their answer, clearly intrigued.

"No." Daniel said. "You're assigned to the Pentagon, Davis, and you only seem show up at the SGC when the really _bad_ stuff is going down."

"Well, Daniel, from what I've heard of your universe so far, it sounds like he probably spends more time at your SGC than ours spends here."

Daniel considered this. "Probably true," he conceded, as he allowed his eyes to scan the briefing room, darting from the subtly-different Stargate chart to the framed photograph hanging in pride of place on the opposite wall.

"Oh, you have a picture of Katherine on your wall in this reality. Nice, Jack." Daniel observed. His mentor and friend, Professor Katherine Langford, had been the one to bring him into the Stargate Program in the first place, and it was largely due to her influence, and passion, that he and his like-minded comrades now had the opportunity to explore other worlds on an almost weekly basis.

"All government buildings have Vice President Langford on their walls, Daniel," Jack corrected him.

"Vice President Langford?" Daniel shared a glance with his teammates. "Is it just me, or is this place starting to grow on you?" He was struck by a thought. "Wait... it's not Vice President Langford and President Kinsey, is it?"

"No, it's Vice President Langford and President—"

There was a quick rap of knuckles outside the door. "Excuse me for interrupting this happy reunion, General O'Neill, but I wanted to tell you—"

"Jonas!" Sam exclaimed happily, springing to her feet, the other members of her team immediately following her lead.

"Hey, Jonas, good to see you," Daniel said on a smile, walking around, hand extended.

"It is indeed a pleasure to see you again, Jonas Quinn," Teal'c bowed.

"Wish I could say the feeling was mutual, but..." The other man looked at Daniel's outstretched hand as though it were a particularly disgusting insect.

"Jonas..." the General's tone was a warning.

"What?" Sam was baffled. "Jonas... what do you mean?"

"What do I _mean?_"

"For cryin' out loud, Jonas, you mean you haven't heard either?" General O'Neill stepped in. "What _is _the SGC grapevine coming to?" He shook his head, very disappointed to discover such a massive failure in an otherwise reliable system of communication. "Well, allow me to fill you in. These good folks may walk like a duck, and quack like a duck, but believe me when I tell you, they're not... ducks."

Jonas was silent a moment. He looked to Paul Davis for confirmation.

"Alternate reality again?"

"Uh huh."

"Okay."

Sam, Daniel and Teal'c, by now used to the blasé manner in which everyone in this place seemed to take the report of their provenance, didn't wonder at his composure, but did wonder at his apparent animosity towards them.

Taking in their curious, even hurt expressions, Jonas was moved to try to explain. "I'm, ah, not sure how it is in your reality," he said, "but in ours, you three and I... well, we're not exactly... friends."

Sam blinked in confusion. "No? Why not? I can't imagine you not being friends with anyone."

Jonas's lips curved in a singularly bleak smile. "Well, let's just say, I didn't really appreciate it when you destroyed my planet."


	4. Chapter 4: Freakish Hell World

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon. Mention of other minor characters.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Learning Curve (03.05), 2010 (04.16), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), Sight Unseen (06.13), The Changeling (06.19), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

**Author's Note:** Apologies for the vast gulf of time between updates... one would think that being on vacation would lead to having _more _time for such enjoyable pursuits, but that is, strangely, not at all the case. However, with real life recommencing, the virtual vacation spot that is this alternate reality can be visited once more. More frequent updates forthcoming...

No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill.

_**Chapter 4: Freakish Hell-World**_

Sam and Daniel showed him identical faces of stupefaction. Teal'c, whose face was constitutionally incapable of stupefaction, had the appearance of one who had, at the least, suffered a mild shock.

"Langara has been destroyed?" Sam asked, horror in her voice.

"Langara?" O'Neill queried.

"Do you mean _Pan_gar?" Jonas queried. "'Cause... I'm from Kelowna."

"No," Sam shook her head. "I mean Langara. Your planet." Jonas made to step in and correct this misapprehension, but Sam forged on. "I know your _nation_ is called Kelowna, Jonas, but after peace was declared between it, Terrania and the Andari Federation, the Joint Ruling Council..."

"There was no peace," Jonas interrupted flatly. "There is no Joint Ruling Council. There's nothing for any council, joint or otherwise, to rule."

Sam's eyes grew even wider still. "Your planet... you mean it really just...?"

"Blew up?" Jonas nodded. "Yes. Thanks to you."

"Jonas." The General, again, used the name as an admonishment. The young alien grimaced and ducked his head, acknowledging the unspoken order. O'Neill waved them all back to their seats.

"But..." Sam was looking from one to the other, still uncomprehending. "But what did we... did _they_ do?"

"It's kind of a long story, Colonel Carter."

"Yes, and one that you can hear once we deal with the current crisis," the General insisted forcefully. "Namely, getting you folks back to where you came from and our homegrown SG-1 back here, where they belong." O'Neill cocked his head to one side, considering his words. "Uh. Well, I guess you can't wait _that_ long to hear the story..."

"Not if we actually want to hear it, no, sir," Sam agreed, with a small grin.

"I do not believe the tale of Jonas Quinn's homeworld's destruction is one I ever wish to hear."

"Right there with ya, Teal'c," Daniel agreed, with feeling.

"Great. Well then, unless someone wants to spin some other really depressing yarn, let us return to the matter at hand. My wife..."

"Forgive me, General," Jonas Quinn interrupted, "but the disappearance of SG-1 isn't actually the highest priority at the moment."

"Jonas!" This time, the General barked the Kelownan's name like a fast, strong hit to the solar plexus rather than the almost indulgent tone he had previously taken. He was suddenly in a towering fury, and almost at the end of his – at all times, limited – patience.

Jack felt he gave Jonas Quinn a _lot_ of slack. The man had lost his people, and his planet, and while no one, aside from Jonas, believed that SG-1 was responsible for the disaster, O'Neill knew that his wife would always feel a certain measure of guilt over the incident. For her sake, he allowed Jonas the kind of leeway he wouldn't ordinarily permit anyone. He certainly would never let anyone else look at, talk to, or speak of his wife and her team in the way that Jonas frequently did, had she not begged him to allow it.

An amazing woman, his wife. He felt the familiar ache take hold. _Where are you, Sam?_

"I didn't mean that the way it sounded, General!" Jonas hastened to inform his glowering CO. "It's not that I don't want them found... although, the thought of never seeing them again is tempting—"

"Okay, that's it. I _have_ to know!" Sam exclaimed. "I'm sorry, guys," she waved a staying hand at Daniel and Teal'c, "but for Jonas to wish us dead – _Jonas_ to wish _us_ dead! – then... well... I can't even begin to speculate as to what could have happened." Sam shrugged, and turned to Jonas, face full of sympathy. "So... what happened?"

Jonas looked on the verge of explaining, but he visibly stopped himself from indulging in the tale. "No, Colonel Carter, now is not the time. We have more pressing concerns. And, sir," he continued turning to the General, "they are classified concerns." His pointed gaze fell on the visiting copies of their own SG-1.

"Hey, Jonas. A Sam is a Sam is a Sam. Whatever this fresh new hell may be, I'm sure she and the boys can help us out. So, spill it. What's up?"

Paul Davis, well-used to his CO's unconventional leadership style, still had difficulty resisting a disapproving headshake. "What's up?" was not, in his humble opinion, quite the proper manner in which to request a report on a potential threat to Earth and the SGC.

"Well, General," he took over the tale, "as you know, SG-12 and I have just returned from P9X-391. We found a device there that seems to be of Ancient origin; it is emitting a low level of a type of radiation that is unknown to us, and the Doc wanted it brought back for study, so—"

"You don't want to do that, sir," Sam broke in, alarmed.

"I don't?" O'Neill queried.

"No, sir." Sam was decided.

"Indeed," Teal'c concurred.

"Why not?" Daniel, brow furrowed, looked from one to the other of his teammates, clearly at a loss.

"Bugs," Sam told him succinctly.

"Bugs... like, those Replicator things you told me about?" O'Neill's tactical brain ticked into evident overdrive at the thought of having such a menace introduced into his universe.

"No, sir," Carter hastened to reassure him.

"Bugs... like when Teal'c turned into one?"

"No, Daniel." Sam's wide eyes warned Daniel off that taboo subject, as Teal'c fixed the archaeologist with a scowl. "Transdimensional bugs. I thought you said you read all the reports from the time you were... away."

"Oh, right," Daniel nodded, flashing Teal'c an apologetic half-smile as his encyclopedic brain accessed the file on that particular incident. "The bugs only Jonas could see, and at first everyone thought he was crazy – sorry, Jonas, believe me, I can empathise with you on that one – and then it turned out he was just the first to see them, because he was the first one to come into contact with the device."

"And then the effect breached containment, and Colonel O'Neill shot up a gas station sign." Sam smiled wryly. "Good times."

"I disagree, Colonel Carter. Those times were not 'good' at all."

"Right, sure, sorry, Teal'c."

"So, what you're saying is..." General O'Neill interrupted these reminscences, clearly taking umbrage at this conversation that was about him, and yet not including him. "... we should _not_ bring this thing through the 'Gate?"

"Best not, sir."

"Uh..." Davis had a hand raised. "Too late."

"Oh?"

"Yes, that's what we came to talk to you about, sir. We checked with the Doc, and he said to bring it on through. Something about the particles being interesting but safe, but... er... well, my team and I started seeing the... ah... bugs a little over an hour ago." Some of his agitation began to show through his earnest demeanor. "The Doc still says they're harmless, not even in this plane of existence, and didn't think it was going to be a problem. He shut the Ancient device off, and we thought it was all fine. But now more people are seeing them!" Davis heard his voice rise a little in incipient panic, and exerted every fiber of self-control he had to reign it in. Could he help it if he _hated_ bugs? "Even people who have not had any contact with the device, or the radiation, are now seeing them. They're _everywhere._"

"Sir, I recommend you seal the base immediately!" Sam interposed, with conviction.

"To keep in harmless bugs that aren't even, if I understand the word 'transdimensional' correctly, here? I'm confused as to why I would do that."

"Well, sir," Sam said, a slight sting in her voice, not used to having such a strong suggestion questioned by her CO, "to prevent anyone from leaving the base and communicating the ability to see the bugs to the civilian population."

"Communicating? Like... like a virus? A virus that causes people to... to see bugs?" He sounded skeptical, and Sam felt annoyance begin to build.

"Well, again... no, sir. Not really. It isn't an illness, it's... well, it's an _awareness_. These bugs are always here, sir, always around us, all the time, we just don't see them ordinarily. Now, we don't really understand exactly how it works, but we do know that touching the device from P9X-391 not only allows a person to see these creatures as they exist in parallel dimension, but also allows that person to pass on the capacity to do so to others with whom they come into physical contact."

General O'Neill took a moment to digest this.

"O... kay," he said slowly. "So... what do we do?

"Well, you'll need to reorder the control crystals within the device in a certain way, which will reverse the effects... if you can have the device brought up here, sir, I think I recall the correct configuration."

"You_ think?_"

"It _was_ several years ago. _Sir_." Jack took note of how she turned the honorific "sir" into a disdainful remonstrance, her attitude bordering on insubordination. He filed it away for later, another piece of the intriguing puzzle that was her relationship to his counterpart in her reality.

"Alright, alright," he acknowledged the hit, holding up a hand. "Davis, go and order that damned machine brought up here immediately. And later we'll discuss how it came to happen that this thing made its way back through the 'Gate without my approval."

"But, sir, your orders regarding new technology are to—" Davis visibly restrained his objection. "Yes, sir." He paused, a sideways nod of the head indicating Colonel Carter. "And the base, sir?"

"Oh, yeah. Jonas, go order the based locked down, would ya?"

"Wow," Daniel said to Teal'c, in an aside. "Jack is really good at delegating in this universe."

"Indeed."

O'Neill turned back to the visiting SG-1. "So." He gestured invitingly at Sam.

"Sir?"

"So, what happens after you rearrange these crystal things?"

"Well..." Sam looked abashed, knowing how her explanation was about to sound. "Well, sir, the device appears to work on the mind via a charge that is released into the body of anyone touching it. And just as that charge is passed from person to person, via physical contact, so is the opposite charge, which shuts off the ability. So you'll need to have an infected person touch the machine, and then they have to touch another infected person, and so on and so on until there is no one left seeing the bugs."

"Really?" The General demanded. "That's it? That's... well, that's kind of ridiculous, you know."

Sam shook her head ruefully. "Yes, I know. But believe me, sir, you do _not_ want to let the ability to see them escape the SGC. Not only is it dangerous – just think of all the billboards that might get shot up!" she heard a low rumble from Teal'c, signifying his amusement, "but it is also a major security breach. It was all we could do to come up with some kind of cover story so that the public wouldn't begin to suspect."

"Suspect what? Transdimensional insects?"

"No, sir." Sam looked steadily at the General, her brow furrowed slightly, as he raised his eyebrows at her in impatient question. Sam sighed. This General O'Neill was raising his eyebrows at her skeptically... _again._ She was beginning to get used to it, but also beginning to get kind of pissed. There were, of course, times when their own version looked askance at her explanations, or theories or, frequently, her methods, but when it came to scientific matters, and the security of the base, he had learned to trust to her judgement so much that she rarely had to work too hard to convince him to accept her word. The fact that she was having to account for herself to this copy of him was, as _her_ General would say, getting old.

"Then what?"

"The... er... well, the SGC obviously," she informed him bursquely, allowing a little of her irritation to show.

There was a short silence. "And is the public not aware of the SGC?" he asked, voice deceptively calm.

"Uh... no, sir. Not at all."

"Huh." O'Neill sat back in his chair, head shaking. He thought a moment, and then aimed a glare Sam's way. "Now, why'd you have to go and do that?" he demanded, peeved.

She blinked. "Sir?" she asked, recoiling slightly from his patent displeasure. Years of familiarity and camaraderie had inured her to much of his, at times, cantankerous ways – not to mention the fact that this wasn't even really her CO – but no mere officer liked for a General to give them _that _particular look.

"Make me kind of envy the other O'Neill," the General explained, his gaze softening as he took in the subtle signs of her distress. Jack berated himself inwardly. He should've known that this other Sam, this not-married-to-him Sam, would feel the lash of his one-star wrath more keenly than his own Sam ever did. And here was yet another piece of the increasingly-puzzling puzzle. This Colonel Carter was perfectly comfortable taking her General to task and offering him insult, and yet feared his superior disapprobation, just as any other lowly half-bird would? Really, what _was _going on with them in the other reality? Talk about a Bizarro World!

"How so, sir?" she was saying now, having regained her composure.

"Well, so far, I've been pretty happy with my lot in this neck of the multiverse woods." O'Neill allowed his hands to encompass the room all around them, but clearly meant to imply everything in his entire known existence. "You people have hardly any advanced weaponry, an infestation of bug robot things, and I'm not married to _you!_" He pointed at Sam emphatically. "It sounded like a freakish hell-world. But now... well, a secret Stargate _would_ make things a hell of a lot easier."

Sam and Daniel exchanged a glance, perplexed and amazed in equal measure. The Stargate was _not _ a secret on this issue of their world? And just how was _that_ working out? The idea of the Stargate being public knowledge—it was just so... so... unfathomable. Daniel opened his mouth to find out more, when a strident voice was heard from out in the hall, forestalling him.

"Re-arranging the crystals! As if _that's_ going to... Just who's deranged, delusional—not to mention dangerous—idea _is _this? It has all the hallmarks of a Sam Carter special, but since she's MIA, I don't..."

The voice trailed off as its owner entered the briefing room. The look on his face was one of astonishment mixed with equal parts relief and chagrin.

"Sam!" Dr. Rodney McKay exclaimed, a genuine smile breaking out over his usually disgruntled face. "You're back! You're... wait." His broke off, his eyes flicking across her face and form rapidly. "You're not Sam." His face fell. "You're..." he turned to O'Neill, nodding in something that could have been akin to sympathy. "An alternate reality Sam. Right?"

O'Neill nodded, though his admiration of McKay's staggering intellect – even he, her husband, hadn't seen the differences in this Not-Sam at first – in no way diminished his disgust at the scientist's following monologue.

McKay gave a half-shrug. "Oh, well. At least we have yet more proof that Sam Carter is just as loopy in every possible version of reality as she is in our own. And if entropic cascade failure starts to manifest, then this way we'll know our own simple Sam is still in one piece. And if not, well, we'll have a perfectly good copy who is just as capable of arriving at the same caliber of nonsensical, though occasionally opportune, theories." He pursed his lips as he considered his words, and then nodded, as though finding his logic sound, not noticing the way Daniel and Teal'c bridled at the aspersions he cast against their teammate.

O'Neill, however, did notice. _Well_, O'Neill corrected his earlier thought, _perhaps I _do _let people other than Jonas talk trash about my wife. _He was angry with himself. _I think _that's_ gonna have to stop._

"So, we need to re-order the crystals, huh?" McKay was saying now, turning back to Sam. "You know this from your own reality, I suppose? Okay, okay, go ahead, do your thing, turn off the bugs." He started, and brushed at his sleeve, clearly swatting away a creature that was invisible to their eyes.

Davis had followed him into the room, wheeling before him an exact duplicate of the Ancient device Sam remembered. Sam looked to the General, his face deceptively passive as he bore the brunt if McKay's insensitive, if incisive, babbling. Upon his nod, she moved to the device, removing its crystal heart, and quickly redistributed the pieces therein into a pattern she instantly recalled, with it right in front of her.

She replaced the housing, and at once the device began emitting a green glow. There was a tense moment, followed by a low disappointed groan from Paul Davis, his eyes transfixed to a point on the wall above his CO's head.

"See, I told you!" Rodney McKay groused, delighted to be vindicated. "I can still see the bugs! It was the most ridiculous idea I ever heard, thinking that just by simply altering the configuration of the crystals, you could—"

With an impatient huff of breath, Sam grabbed the other scientist's hand, and pressed it against the device, with perhaps more force than was strictly necessary. "Ow!" McKay exclaimed. "Ow, Sam, that really, really hurt, and... oh." He looked around him, peering intently. "I... don't see them anymore."

"No, really?" Sam's sarcasm was almost O'Neill-worthy.

Davis was still staring at the wall. "Uh, Sam..?"

"McKay, go over and touch Davis, would you?"

"What?"

"Just do it."

Rodney sidled over to the leader of SG-13, and gingerly patted him on the shoulder.

"On the bare skin, McKay!" Sam was exasperated. "Just... shake his hand."

"Oh."

Sam shook her head as he complied, his cheeks heating slightly. Dr. Rodney McKay was a certifiable genius, but suffered from a lack of commonsense that was truly remarkable. Not to mention an abrasive personality that had almost everyone in the SGC's scientific community breathing a sigh of relief when he was chosen to go along on Dr. Elizabeth Weir's intergalactic expedition to find Atlantis in the Pegasus Galaxy.

Despite his faults, Sam wished Rodney well in Atlantis—if that was indeed where he and his fellow expedition members had found themselves. She was also very glad that Jack had denied Daniel's repeated request to go along to Pegasus to see if he had, in fact, finally found the fabled Lost City of the Ancients. Not only did they need Daniel in their own galaxy, and not only did she _want _him in their own galaxy, but she also wanted him _not_ to be put on trial for the murder of Dr. Rodney McKay. Justifiable though the homicide might be.

Davis was turning to her now, beaming widely and with thanks, as the apparitions he had been experiencing apparently subsided. "With your permission, sir?" he asked General O'Neill formally, intimating that he should go and spread this new immunity to seeing the bugs throughout the base.

"Yes, yes, go," the General agreed, waving a hand. "And make sure no one got off the base with this... this _charge_ thing messing with their heads. Let me know if we need to make an announcement to the Press, to call in any civilians who might have been exposed. Then take the base off lockdown when you're sure we're clear."

"Yes, sir," Davis responded, coming to attention, and he could almost hear the salute almost in his own voice. _This _was how a General was supposed to behave! With a sharp about face, he made for the door, meeting Jonas on his way back in. Davis grabbed him by the hand, and shook it briefly. Jonas threw a puzzled glance at the General.

"You just got a dose of invisible bug spray," he was told.

"I..." Jonas made the necessary mental leaps in order to make sense of that somewhat opaque comment. "Oh, good."

"Yes. Nice work, Sam... Colonel Carter," Jack commended her. "And now, for your next trick, how about you see about getting my wife back?" A pause. "My Daniel and Teal'c, too, I suppose."

Sam blinked. "Well, sir..." she trailed off, searching for the words. She had been dreading a return to this topic, and had even hoped for another SGC emergency – though, for preference, nothing involving Anubis, who just would not _die_ – to delay it from being put back on the agenda. "I'm sorry, sir, but I've been thinking about it," she said, "and... well, I'm not at all sure that we can."


	5. Chapter 5: Ass Saving Miracle Worker

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon. Mention of other minor characters.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Learning Curve (03.05), 2010 (04.16), Exodus (04.22), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), Sight Unseen (6.13), The Changeling (06.19), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

**Author's Note:** This one's for you, **CountryPixie**. I also think there's some stuff for you in here, **Jason Barnett**, and a little something for you, **yahaira**. Ask, and ye shall receive...

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill. May contain nuts.

_**Chapter Five: Ass-Saving Miracle Worker **_

General O'Neill just stared at her, brown eyes full of betrayal.

"Please?"

Sam gave him a small, apologetic smile. "Of course, I'll _try_ to get them back, sir. We all will! It's just... well, I don't think it's going to be quite as simple as you think it is."

"Why, what's the problem? You spend a couple of hours with the dialling computer and figure out how you got here instead of to your SGC; you spend about twenty minutes explaining it to me while I nod my head and pretend to understand what you're talking about; you do something to the Gate – which will probably involve reversing the polarity – and, ta dah! You head on home, and my SG-1 comes on through." He dusted his hands. "Done, and done."

Sam blinked, taking in his calm conviction that she could solve this conundrum so easily.

"Sir, I don't think... wait." She cocked a quizzical eyebrow. "Why would I reverse the polarity?"

He gave her a steady look. "You _always _reverse the polarity."

"No, I don't." Sam countered, sending a silent plea for support to her teammates.

They both kept their faces carfefully neutral. "You know, he, uh, has a point," Daniel couldn't help but admit.

Sam turned to McKay, hoping that perhaps her fellow scientist would be of more help. He shrugged. "Reversing the polarity _is _kinda one of our go-to plans."

"Well... maybe," Sam conceded. "_Maybe_ there has been the odd occasion on which, in addition to many other complicated and highly technical scientific processes, I have also found it necessary to reverse a polarity or two—"

"_We _have found it necessary," McKay put in. They all turned to stare at him. "I'm just saying. In this universe, at least, it's not always _Sam _who does the reversing. I, in fact, can reverse polarities with the best of them. I remember the time, on P3X-591, when—"

"Thank you, Doctor," General O'Neill said, with deceptive courtesy. "Colonel Carter?"

She was silent a moment, her mind elsewhere. Jack recognised that particular gleam in her cobalt eyes, accompanied by the ever-so-faint line in the middle of her forehead... it was the one she got whenever she was searching for a way to explain an esoteric concept to the SGC's lesser mortals. Which meant, of course, everyone.

Then he saw her brow clear as a possibility raced across her mind, an idea she had not previously considered. He watched her purse her pink lips as she pondered that thought for about a microsecond, and then shake her blonde mane dismissively in a way that had Jack's already quickened pulse racing. He _loved _it when she did that! "Sir, I'm sorry, but no matter how things have gone in the past, I can't say that merely reversing the polarity is going to work this time. Or... well... that _anything _I can do will work."

"Come on, Not-Sam, where's that can-do spirit that we all know and love? Or is Samantha Carter just not as big of an ass-saving miracle worker in your universe as she is in ours? "

"I'll have you know I have saved plenty of asses, sir," Sam riposted, stung.

"Me, too!" McKay couldn't resist mentioning. "I have, too!"

"Yes, McKay, we know!" the General allowed, bitingly. "But, let's face it, Sam – at least, _our _Sam – is winner and still champion when it comes to explaining the unexplainable, making sense of the nonsensical, figuring out the unfigure-out-able..."

Sam, while touched by these words, was also discomfitted by his continued perception that she could somehow bring back his SG-1 with the scientific equivalent of snapping her fingers. She moved to object, again, when Teal'c forestalled her.

"I believe the O'Neill of this reality is, once again, registering a valid opinion, Colonel Carter," he told her gravely. "Is it not true that you have frequently performed feats of extraordinary deduction and calculation, which have saved both Earth and SG-1, along with countless lives on countless worlds?"

"Well, I—"

"Did you not perform the computations necessary to power the Stargate without the benefit of a DHD, and to adjust for millenia of astral drift? And have you not been the individual most capable of, and most responsible for, ensuring that the warriors of the Tau'ri continue to venture out into the galaxy, working towards the freedom of all its many peoples?" Teal'c was clearly warming to his theme... which appeared to be, McKay thought sourly, The General and Abiding Wonderfulness of the Perfect and Incomparable Samantha Carter.

"Um, well, I supp—"

"And have you not also used your acute mental abilities to consistently wreak destruction upon your enemies in a manner worthy of the most fierce warrior, yourself?" Teal'c forged on, relentless. "What of your creation of naqada-enhanced weapons? What of the sun you caused to explode? What of—"

"The sun you caused to _what?_" Jonas expostulated. An intake of breath was heard from General O'Neill, and even McKay seemed a little rattled at this revelation.

"Oh, will everyone just let that go?" Sam rolled her eyes, exasperated. "One little star..."

There was another, longer, silence, this one palpably uncomfortable as members of the SGC _in situ _shared troubled glances, while the members of the visiting SG-1 shared befuddled ones.

"Was it the sun of a planet once called Siteria?" Jonas Quinn asked, very carefully.

Sam, Teal'c and Daniel turned to Jonas, as one. Taking in his stiff posture and stricken face, Daniel hazarded a guess that maybe the destruction of that particular sun might hold the clue to his animosity towards their opposite numbers in this reality, and had, in fact, been responsible for the destruction of his homeworld.

"Um," Sam frowned slightly, "no. It was the sun of the planet Vorash... we took out a Goa'uld fleet with the explosion."

"Why do you ask?" Daniel posed the question, fairly sure of the answer, his voice full of pre-emptive compassion.

"Because that's the sun she blew up that destoyed my planet!" Jonas flashed back, confirming Daniel's hypothesis.

"Jonas!" The General barked. "Now is _not _the—"

"Well then, _when, _General? When _will_ be the right time? The right time to tell them about what they did, about how they—"

"Preferably never? How about that? The twelfth of never work for you? There are other concerns here Jonas! Other—and, I'm sorry, but for cryin' out loud! There are more _immediate_ matters that we should be—"

"No, sir, it's alright," Sam interceded. "And, actually, I don't think there _are_ any matters more immediate. We need all the information we can get about your reality, if we're going to make any sense at all out of what happened here, and even something like a shift in the alignment of a constellation light years away could be an important clue. Besides, I _want _to know! So..." she turned her head. "Jonas?

Jonas waited till he received a small, reluctant nod from his CO before he took a deep breath, and collected himself. As he looked into the concerned, but above all curious, face of a Colonel Samantha Carter who was all too familiar, and yet a complete stranger to him, he was assailed by doubt. Was it fair of him to blame this blameless Colonel Carter for his world's destruction? Was it even fair of him to blame their own Colonel Carter?

Still, she was right. This other SG-1 _should_ hear the heartbreaking story in its entirety – and he should be the one to tell it.

"I think I need to begin with how you came to meet my people in the first place," he said. "You, Doctor Jackson, had discovered a reference to a new form of powerful energy on our planet when you found the records of a Goa'uld named Morrigan on P3X-289..."

Daniel looked to Sam for enlightenment. "Why does that sound famil—?"

"The Link," Sam supplied instantly, referring to the neural-interfacing computer system that had controled the memories and actions of a diminishing civilization, held safe within an artificial atmosphere on a world hostile to life, that SG-1 had encountered not long before.

"Oh." Daniel drew out the syllable. "You found Goa'uld artefacts elsewhere on that planet? Damn, I _knew_ we should've explored more than just that dome. Though, I guess we usually _do_ only explore the area close to the Stargate. Who knows what else we've missed on the other planets we've visited?" Jonas was glaring at him impatiently. "Oh, sorry. You were saying?"

"Well, you convinced the General to let you come through the Stargate to investigate, that it might be something you could use against the Aschen. Also, I believe you were... well... intrigued."

"Well,that _sounds_ like me."

Jonas shook his head in mournful self-mockery. "I was so eager to meet you all, the strangers from beyond! If only I had known what you would..."

"Jonas."

"Yes, General. Anyway. You showed us how to use the Stargate, and promised to take us through it and introduce us to new allies. We, in return, gave you naqadria, with which to experiment. You, Major Carter, were very interested in its explosive properties, and how it could be used to create a bomb many times more powerful than any you had on your world at that time."

Sam opened her mouth to claim that she would surely have been more interested in some peaceable uses for the unstable element, but, upon reflection, merely commented, in a conscious echo of Daniel: "Well, _that_ sounds like me."

"Teal'c," Jonas continued, "your contribution was to negotiate the details of the agreement with my government, and to provide us with the Stargate addresses that would most suit our needs."

"Well, _that _sounds like him," Sam and Daniel chorused, after a tense moment. Teal'c raised an intimidating eyebrow; Sam tried valiantly to repress a giggle, but his air of offended dignity at the thought of being cast in the role of treaty negotiator was too much for her. Daniel joined in with a low chuckle; they both immediately sobered when Teal'c reproving gaze fell upon them.

"I do not believe that sounds like me at all," he intoned sternly.

"Sorry," they mouthed.

"Now," Jonas went on, oblivious to this byplay, "just as in your reality, my planet's nations were at war. The notion of using naqadria, which we had in ample supply, as an accelerant in our own weapons had, of course, occurred to us. But we had not thought it would ever possibly work. And yet there you were, Colonel, insistent that our naqadria was the very thing you needed to make your own weapons more effective. So, as the weeks and months went by, and we had no further contact from Earth—you had our naqadria, after all, what more use did you have for us?" this, bitterly, "we began our own experiments.

"What we didn't know, what we _couldn't_ have known, was that, just as you were testing one of your naqadria-enhanced weapons on an enemy fleet, we, too, were performing a test on our own, much cruder, attempt at a naqadria bomb on Kelownan soil.

"Then, we made an unfortunate situation even worse. We opened the Stargate to one of the addresses Teal'c had supplied to us, but we either input the wrong series of glyphs, or Teal'c _gave _us the wrong series of glyphs," Jonas's darkling glare fell on the Jaffa. "Either way, my team and I found ourselves on a barren, lifeless rock, instead of the industrialised planet we had been expecting. I ran straight to the DHD, and dialled home... which was almost exactly when you sent a naqadria-fuelled Star-Killer bomb into the sun that planet was orbiting."

Sam gasped, and Daniel dropped his head to his hands. "Oh, no."

"The only reason I am standing here today, when no other person from my planet made it out alive," Jonas said, "is that a Major Marks, on board one of the Earth Force ships, happened to notice the Gate activate, and beamed me up before the star blew." Jonas sighed. "My team..." his voice sounded strangled. "They had already gone back through the wormhole. Just a few more seconds, if only we'd left a few seconds later..." he sighed, but soon recovered his former bile. "If only we'd known about MALPs!"

SG-1 sat staring at him, beyond shocked at the improbably unlucky confluence of circumstance that had led to such a disaster for Jonas's homeworld.

"I don't remember much about the next few hours," the Kelownan went on. "I know I was unconscious; the air on the planet had not exactly been what you'd call breatheable. I know we were in hyperspace, heading away from the site of the explosion. But I knew nothing of what had happened to that star, or the effects its destruction had on my planet, until..."

"Until," General O'Neill took over the report, taking pity on the younger man, "he got here. We tried dialling the Kelownans, but we got nothing. So we sent a ship over that way, and they confirmed it. Gone. The whole damn thing."

"But, sir, I don't understand!" Sam declared. "How could the force of an explosion from a sun go_ through_ a planet-based Stargate? At least, with enough power to completely destroy an entire world? I could see that it might, perhaps, have been magnified by the naqada in the Gate itself, and perhaps knock out a continent or two, but how—?"

"Well, look, I don't pretend to completely get it, but I think the gist is that the Kelownan's own naqadria bomb test ignited some underground deposits at right around the same time the force from the Star-Killer came through the Gate. All that extra naqadria gave the blast from Sitronia a heck of a punch, and—"

"But, sir—"

"No. No 'but sir.' Now, look, Sa—Colonel Carter," Jack interrupted her interruption. "You forget, we've had a lot of time to analyse this, and we've had our best person working on it." He gave her a lopsided grin. "By which, of course, I mean you." He shot a small smile at McKay. "No offense, there, Doctor."

"Oh, sure, none at _all_ taken," Rodney McKay returned, with heavy sarcasm. "But, lest you get too carried away with this whole haunting, tragic tale, New Sam, let me make it clear that I am not at all convinced of your findings here..."

"Now, _there's _a surprise."

"... and _I _believe that the Kelownans blew themselves up. I don't think that we – by which I mean you – are to blame in the slightest. In fact, Quinn," he said sharply, "instead of dragging yourself about with that woe-is-me expression all the time, you should be happy – and grateful! – to be alive! I mean, would it kill you to _smile _once in a while? So what if Teal'c _did _give you the wrong address? If he hadn't, you'd have died, along with the rest of your backward, primit—"

"Meredith!" Sam wielded her fellow scientist's real first name like a whip. "That's enough!" To her surprise, his diatribe ended instantly, and he sat back in his chair, his face showing only the merest hint of petulance. _Hmmm. Interesting._

She turned to Jonas. "Jonas," she said, eyes full of unanswered questions and unshed tears, "I am so sorry! It... I never imagined that such a thing could... I..." Sam took a deep, shuddering breath, and tried to find some way, _any _way, to comfort him.

"In our reality," she told him gently, "when we first me you, your people _were _conducting naquadria bomb tests, but in a lab, and it was not at our urging, or with our example. In fact, Daniel tried again and again to explain the dangers of such a weapon to you, and your leaders. And then... well, there _was_ an accident." Dark shadows settled in Sam's eyes, murky with remembered pain. "The bomb was unstable, and just as it was about the go critical, Daniel exposed himself to a lethal dose of radiation in order to save millions of lives. Millions of _Kelownan_ lives," she added, with mild emphasis.

"Well..." Jonas was speechless, at least momentarily, but recovered himself quickly. "Well, in ours... he didn't."

Daniel looked unaccountably guilty for this oversight on the part of his other self. "Um. I'm sorry?" he offerred.

"Ah, Sa—Colonel Carter?" the General held up a staying finger. "Did you just say a _lethal _dose?"

"Uhuh," she nodded, grateful to grasp at any change in the subject, even one such as this.

"And... yet." O'Neill indicated Daniel's person with an elegant furl of his hand; Daniel, clearly still alive and not suffering from any obvious effects of radiation poisoning.

"It was after the events on Jonas Quinn's homeworld that Daniel Jackson underwent the holy rite of Ascension, and became a higher being." Teal'c turned to Daniel, performing a regal, yet deferential, bow.

"Oh." Jack nodded calmly.

"You... you Ascended?" Jonas was less calm. "Like... like the Ancients?"

"Yep."

"But..." Jonas reached out a tentative hand, and pushed against Daniel's shoulder. "But you're human now? No longer... um... an Ascended Being?" He whispered the final two words as though they were sacred.

"Yep," Daniel said again. "I... uh... wasn't very good at it."

Jack barked a laugh. "Well, you know what they say."

"Yes," Daniel agreed. "I know many things that they say."

"If at first you don't—"

"Please, Daniel, do _not_ try, try again!" Sam's flung out a panicked hand at the thought of losing him anew, even as she indulged in a little good-natured ribbing. "I mean, I wouldn't get to see you at _all! _Sure, you'd visit the General, and Teal'c, but me..."

Daniel blew out a long breath, closing his eyes briefly. "How many times do I have to apologise for that, Sam? It's not like I wasn't watching you, too..."

"You were watching me?" Sam's eyes widened in mock alarm.

"Watching _over_ you," Daniel hastened to elaborate. "Not, y'know, _watching_ you, like, naked in the shower..." he trailed off, his eyes darting uncomfortably around the room.

"How did you resist?" Jack threw him a devilish wink, enjoying the tinge of pinkness that stained his friend's – or, at least, this version of his friend's – cheek.

"Well, I _did_ have a few other things on my mind. Fate of humanity, being at one with the cosmos, that kind of thing."

"Did you not tell us that you do not recall all that took place when you were in the higher planes, Daniel Jackson?" Teal'c demanded.

"Well, uh... yeah."

"So how can you be certain that there were no occasions during which you were watching over Major Carter that she happened to be... unclothed?"

Daniel's blank-faced, open-mouthed visage was his only reply.

"Anyway," he lilted, desperate for yet another change of uncomfortable subject, "and merely out of curiosity: how many times have I died in this universe?"

Jack gawked at him. "Died? Um... none. At least, none of which I'm aware."

"Huh." Daniel looked at his teammates; their astonishment was evident, and he knew it mirrored his own.

"I'm guessing, from your faces, that I don't even want to know," Jack surmised.

"No, probably not."

"Although _I _would be perfectly happy to make it at least _once_, in this reality," a voice muttered darkly from the doorway. Daniel looked up, stunned. He blinked stupidly several times, and was somewhat reassured to detect a look of utter bewilderment on both of his teammates' faces. He was _not _hallucinating, after all.

"Ba'al?" he marveled.

As, indeed, it was.


	6. Chapter 6: He Goes By Bob Now

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon, Ba'al, Walter Davis. Mention of other minor characters.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Learning Curve (03.05), 2010 (04.16), Exodus (04.22), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), Sight Unseen (6.13), The Changeling (06.19), Space Race (07.08), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

**Author's Note:** I just want to thank you all – and by "all," I mean "not even close to all" – for the truly awesome reviews. They mean a lot, and really fuel the (admittedly, often slow-burning) fire of inspiration...

**Disclaimer: **No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill. May contain nuts.

**Not A Terrible Reality**

_**Chapter 6: He Goes By Bob Now**_

Sam, Daniel and Teal'c were staring an Ba'al, unable to believe their eyes. Same oiled black hair, same demonic goatee, same supercilious voice and superior attitude. It was him, alright.

"He goes by Bob now," General O'Neill informed his guests brightly.

"Bob?"

"Remember you said you'd love to get Ba'al in front of our Snake Detector in your universe? Well... _we _did. Took the snake out, and nowadays, he's just regular people."

"Okay, but... Bob?" Daniel couldn't hide the amusement in his voice.

"Well, if you'd had, as the General would say, a _snake_ inside you for two thousand years, then you, too, might have difficulty remembering your name, _Doctor_ Jackson."

"Just regular, two thousand year-old people."

"Oh, right, sure," Daniel acceded. "Sorry."

"Yes, you _are_ quite a sorry specimen," said that two-thousand year-old person disparagingly, his clipped, cultured accent that wasn't _quite _South African making him sound even more scathing.

Daniel squinted. "Y'know, he doesn't seem all that different."

"Oh, don't mind ol' Bob, Danny," Jack advised him, on a chuckle. "He's only saying that because you hate him."

"I do?"

"Well, the other you does, yeah."

"And, I assure you, Doctor Jackson, the feeling is entirely mutual. In fact, it is so very mutual that I believe the hatred carries across the multiverse. Indeed, I find that I hate Daniel Jackson in all his incarnations, throughout space and time, regardless of each individual's innocence or guilt."

"Um. Why?"

"What better reason can two men have to hate one another than a woman?" the former Goa'uld System Lord asked suavely. "She was the only thing on which my symbiote and I agreed... but now, she is yours."

"_Who_ is mine? Oh, this girlfriend I apparently have. Well, let me assure you, Ba'al—sorry, _Bob—_I don't even know this woman in our universe. And, by the sounds of things, she's hardly my, er, type."

"Oh, she's every man's _type,_" the human host formerly known as Ba'al argued, and sent an inquisitive eyebrow around the room to each male present for consensus. Jonas and McKay both delivered themselves of short, but emphatic, nods, and even O'Neill couldn't deny it, pausing to consider for a moment before giving a little shrug of acknowledgement, then shooting a slightly shamefaced look Sam's way.

It was all Sam could do to quash the instinctive protest that came to her lips at the appreciative gleam that came into the General's eyes at the thought of this as-yet-unknown girlfriend of Daniel's. The idea of Daniel with a girlfriend... well, that was strange enough. Add to it the fact that his (married! Hello?) best friend clearly had the hots for the woman, and that made the strangeness complete. Sure, Daniel'd had his share of dalliances; he set hearts perpetually fluttering wherever he went, whether it be througout the halls of the SGC, or the civilization of some alien planet. But as for being with just one someone... Daniel just didn't _do _that. His heart, she was sure, still belonged to Sha're.

_Was there ever anything... between us? _Sam recalled his words to her after they had, miraculously, found him alive, but amnesiac, in the City of the Lost after his flirtation with Ascension; after they had been sure Anubis had actually killed him for good, be he ever so incorporeal, this time.

_No, no, not in that way. We were really, really good friends. _Her stuttered reply had been nothing less than the truth, but a lot less than the full extent of it. 'Cause the real truth was, there were times when she wished there _could _have been something between them. Times when she wished she could have fallen for Daniel, the brilliant, caring, charismatic and courageous—not to mention handsome, funny and charming—civilian, instead of...

_Woah, there, Sam! Enough of that! Pay attention!_

Forcing herself back to the discussion at hand, she realised she hadn't missed much of anything at all while dwelling on these unhealthy speculations. Ba'al—Bob—was still flinging barbs at Daniel, and Daniel appeared to be rapidly running out of patience.

"Now, look, _Bob_," he was saying, having risen to his feet, with Teal'c standing by in wordless, but impressive, support, "no matter what this other me may have done to you, I think you might want to dial back the vitriol before I choose to take offense and—"

"Wait!" Sam cried out involuntarily, suddenly struck by a thought.

"Why, Sam? You don't think this is unacceptable? Bad enough for Mirror World Jack to make Ba'al—Ba'al, of all alleged people!—welcome here at the SGC, but for you to take his side..."

"No, sorry, of course I'm not taking his side, Daniel! Go ahead and challenge him to a duel if you want—"

"I would be honored to act as your second, Daniel Jackson," Teal'c immediately volunteered.

"Right, thank you, Teal'c, pistols at dawn, excellent."

"I shall await your gauntlet with _great _trepidation, Doctor," Bob said, with a sneer, and stalked regally from the room.

"Is it just me, or is he going a little overboard on the Regency villain?" O'Neill, who looked to have enjoyed the scene between Daniel and the former Ba'al just a little too much, asked the room at large.

"It's not just you," replied Daniel, with feeling.

"No, it's not," Sam concurred. "However, something more important has occurred to me, sir," She raised anxious eyes to O'Neill. "Without the Langarans—sorry, Jonas, to go back to the subject—but without the Langarans, where did we find an alternate source of naquadria?"

He frowned. "Why would we want naquadria?"

"For the F-302s. And 303s. The hyperdrive I designed uses..."

The General chuckled, and Jonas and McKay were not far behind him. "Why would you need to design a hyperdrive, when we have a perfectly good fleet of ex-bad guy Hataks with Earth Air Force logos etched onto each of their over-decorated sides?"

SG-1 gaped at him. " A _fleet _of Hataks?" Daniel was the first regain his voice.

"Sure. Did you ever meet a Goa'uld called Lord Yu?"

"Yep."

"Well, we met him, too, but I'm guessing we had a little better luck with that than you did... maybe thanks to the anti-Goa'uld tech we got from Machello, which I'm also guessing you don't have." The General thought for a beat, and then nodded a little. "Which I'm pretty _sure _you don't have," he corrected himself.

"Lord Yu is dead here?"

"Oh, yeah."

"And we have all his motherships?"

"Uh huh."

"And Machello... is alive?"

"Alive, and working hard explaining his weapon concepts to the technocrats at Area 51."

Daniel shook his head in wonder. "Jack may very well cry."

"Yes, let's not tell him," Sam suggested, thinking that there was more than _one _thing about this alternate reality that she would happily keep from their CO.

"From the sounds of things, your Jack has every right to get a little teary-eyed," O'Neill said, then paused, sitting up straighter and deepening his voice for effect, "though I'm sure he'd do so in a very manly manner." He turned serious. "But in order for your Jack to even know about it, about _any_ of this, you're going to have to get back to your Jack. Which brings _us _back to... _where is my Sam?_" The frustration in his voice was clear from the rising volume of, and gritted teeth through which, he asked his question. "You're here, she's not, and I want an explanation! So... explain it, darn it!"

Sam took a moment to order her thoughts. "Sir, with all due respect..." she began.

"See, you _say_ it's with respect, but I can still feel a you-are-so-dumb moment coming on."

"No, sir," she contradicted him. "_With respect_: you said that your SG-1 has been missing for over two weeks, but we only just came through from our mission to P5C-429 today. So, depending on the way in which the timeline runs parallel, that may mean that we were both returning from the same mission at the exact same time and, somehow, got switched. Or, far more likely, it may merely mean that your SG-1 is missing, but still in this reality, just when we happened to come through your Gate here due to some as yet unknown outside influence."

"But we got their iris code!" the General protested, voice rising. "It was them! And then _you,_" he pointed at Sam, with clear disgust, "showed up instead."

Teal'c sat up straighter in his chair, aiming a staff-blast glare at O'Neill, who immediately raised conciliatory hands. "Settle, T. You know what I mean!"

"Sir," Sam was quick to intervene, giving Teal'c a steadying nod, "if I may, I'll first have to verify the code you received. It could be that our universes are so similar that both teams have the exact same iris code for this mission, despite the difference in the timing, and that the code you received was, in fact, ours, sent through some kind of...of transdimensional bubble." _Transdimensional bubble? _Sam was surprised at herself. But using this kind of technobabble always worked in their universe, to give her time to work out what was really going on; she could only hope that making up whole concepts in order to buy herself the time she needed here would be similarly successful.

The General snorted sarcastically. "And exactly what are the odds of _that_ happening?"

Sam flashed him a smile, hoping that where the technobabble had failed, her grin might succeed. "I think that may be another thing you don't really want to know, sir."

"Factoring in the close proximity of the missions, the matching planetary designations, the regularity with which SG-1 go missing and our previous experience with alternate realities... only about 11.54996 to 1, General," McKay announced, after a fleeting mental calculation, sending a look Sam's way that she could have sworn was a conspiratorial wink.

Jack sent him a glare. "As usual, you were right," he angled his eyes to Sam. "I really _didn't _want to know." He grimaced. "I'm not used to disliking the odds so much when they're in _favor _of one of your theories."

"Sorry, sir."

"Yes, well. Nevermind. Just... get to it. Whatever you need, you have only to ask."

"Um, well, the mission files would be a good start, sir."

"Right. I knew that. Walter!"

SG-1 turned their heads towards the door, expecting the instanteous arrival of Master Sergeant Walter Harriman. Instead, a flat screen popped up from a hidden slot in the middle of the conference table, on which Harriman's familiar bespectacled face was projected, a look of enquiring earnestness thereon.

"Sir?"

"Could you unlock and transfer the file on SG-1's mission to P5C-479 to my terminal, please?"

"Yes, sir."

As the screen went dark, it immediately slid back into its hiding place, and Sam realised where she had seen that elongated octogon before. "Sir... is that Serrakan technology?" she asked.

"It is. We got it from them when Sam helped this alien guy called Warwick win some race or another..."

"She _won _The Loop?" Sam sighed. "Dammit." She shook her head in remembered annoyance that she and Warwick, the Serrakan who had asked her to help him win the dangerous, though exciting, space race, had been cheated out of victory by the strategems of a racist middle-management type.

Daniel reached out and put a consoling arm around her shoulders, his hand resting at her neck, rubbing it gently with his thumb. She leaned into him, clearly glad of the comfort, and Jack felt his insides twist a little as he eyed them with disfavor. Could it be that this Sam and _Daniel _were...

"Daniel?" his tried to keep his voice neutral, but knew he hadn't succeeded.

Daniel blinked. "Jack?"

"Daniel," Jack almost snapped.

"Jack," Daniel mock-snapped back, in confused retaliation.

Sam looked back and forth between the two of them, seeming at a loss to understand this sudden change in the room's atmosphere, when Jack saw her finally follow the direction of his fulminating gaze, and come to a realisation.

"Oh... um, Daniel, I think..."

"Yep, I think so, too," Daniel agreed, removing his arm from around her shoulder, with more of a pronounced flourish than the proper apologetic haste that Jack would have preferred.

Jack watched as Sam and Daniel—darn it all, Colonel Carter and Doctor Jackson—bestowed upon him beatific smiles, before sharing an amused, almost impish look, most likely at his expense. He surveyed them closely for a few moments more, then dismissed the notion of anything untoward happening between his wife and his best friend—well, okay, the döppelgangers of his wife and his best friend—as unlikely. They were too comfortable with each other, too much alike—and too much like his own versions of them—for that to be probable. _Thank God! How weird would _that_ have been? And how would I ever have looked at our Daniel again without wanting to punch him... more than usual, that is?_

As teammates in his reality, and as fellow big-brained geeks, he had always been pleased that Sam and Daniel were so devoted to each other, and so inseparable. And yet he was also pleased that they _were _forever separated, both by Sam's position as leader of the team, and by her position as Jack's wife. He'd never seen their Daniel give his Sam even so much as an affectionate tap on the arm; their connection was intellectual, and familial, but had never crossed over into physical contact; at least not in Jack's presence. He wondered how much of that was because of his own relationship with Sam... and how the other him in the visitors' reality could stand to see this kind of casual and demonstrative affection between the woman he must surely love and another man. Even if that other man _was _only Daniel...

_Who am I kidding? _Only_ Daniel? The man is practically the SGC pin-up boy! And he's much closer to her age, too. Plus, completely brilliant. Hell, half the time, _I _have a crush on him!_

"Uh, sir..." Sam was saying now, rousing him from these disturbing meditations. "If I may... the mission files?"

"Um. Yes. Of course, Sa—Colonel Carter. In my office."

He rose, and she followed immediate suit, sending a quick hand signal to Daniel and Teal'c to stay put while she assessed the data.

"Oh, I'll just wait here then, shall I?" McKay sung out behind them. "No, no, that's fine, it's not as though I could help you, at all. And it's not like I have, say, twenty or thirty pressing matters waiting for me in the Science Lab—"

He was ignored.

"Not to worry, Doc," Jonas said, in an upbeat voice that sounded much more like the Jonas that Daniel and Teal'c recalled. "Perhaps this Fake Sam will figure out how to get Actual Sam back, and then she and the General will take so much time off that you'll manage to get everything done without any interference. Remember last time?"

"_Remember_ it? It was the most productive month of my professional life! Actually, if Sam hadn't gone and gotten herself and her team all lost in space when she did, I would have contemplated arranging a little Gate malfunction myself, just to get her and the General off my back again, when I eventually allowed her to return!"

Daniel and Teal'c transferred their attention to the whiny scientist at once, matching sets of eyebrows raised, mouths drawn in identical lines, a new suspicion written across their faces.

"Contemplated!" McKay hastily restated. "I would only have _contemplated _it! I promise, I would never... have never... I didn't—"

"Unscheduled off-world activation!" a voice announced urgently from the speakers throughout the base, interrupting McKay's exculpatory ramblings. The klaxons began to squeal, and General O'Neill came bolting out of his office, with Sam only a half-step behind him. He ran for the door to the control room, and, rising to follow, Daniel sent Sam and Teal'c an enquiring look.

"I know that voice," he said. "Is that...?"

Sam nodded. "Yes," she affirmed, as startled as he. "I really think it is."


	7. Chapter 7: Creeping Me Out

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon, Rodney McKay, Ba'al, Walter Harriman, George Hammond, Jennifer Hailey, Nyan, Simon Wells, Ian Hules.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers and References:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Learning Curve (03.05), New Ground (03.19), 2010 (04.16), Prodigy (04.19), Exodus (04.22), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Proving Ground (05.13), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), Sight Unseen (6.13), The Changeling (06.19), Full Circle (07.01), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02). Stargate Atlantis: Rising (01.01)_

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill.

**Not A Terrible Reality**

_**Chapter 7: Creeping Me Out**_

"We're receiving what looks like an IDC, sir, but the signal is corrupted," the Gate tech on duty reported to General O'Neill as he entered the observation deck, Sam, Daniel, Teal'c and McKay in tow.

"Let _me_ look at that!" McKay demanded, pushing his way to the terminal.

"Yes, sir," the Gate tech instantly obeyed, making room for the scientist in front of the screen.

"General Hammond?" Sam asked, wide-eyed, taking in the bald head and stocky form in front of her, and adding it to the distinctive Texan drawl she had heard coming from the base speakers moments earlier.

"Colonel Carter?" Chief Master Sergeant George Hammond turned from the computer to look at her and her team. He rose from his chair, and Sam came to involuntary attention.

"Sir!"

"Nice to see you again, ma'am," Hammond said with a bluff smile. "You too, Doctor Jackson, Teal'c."

"Uh... you, too, sir," Daniel replied, as at a loss as Sam had ever seen him.

"Indeed, it is a pleasure to see you once again in these halls, General Hammond."

"Hmm... sir?" Hammond looked to General O'Neill for an explanation, red-blond eyebrows raised in his round, kindly face.

"Alternate reality."

"Ah, well," Hammond chuckled. "that explains it. Last alternate reality we met with, I was the President!" George shook his head. "Guess I'm just lucky President Weir has a sense of humor."

Daniel blinked. "President... President _Elizabeth _Weir?"

"Yes, sir, Doctor."

"Huh. O... kay." He shared a look of amazement with a visibly impressed Sam, then appealed to Hammond: "_Please_ don't call me 'sir,' sir."

"Very well, sir."

Daniel groaned. Sam, still at attention, flashed him a small, understanding smile.

"At ease, Colonel," General O'Neill told her, noticing her stiffened posture, even though it had not, this time, been brought on by his own lofty station. "Permanently, okay? All this formality, from _you... _it's just creeping me out."

"Yes, sir," Sam obeyed at once, and couldn't completely hide the smile that came to her lips as she thought back to her own General O'Neill's similar admonition. After seven years together on SG-1 – seven years during which he was most assuredly her commanding officer and yet had not only allowed, but encouraged, a certain laxity in all the proper protocols – his promotion to flag rank had caused her to revert to the very correct officer she had been when they'd first met. She had observed all the necessary military courtesies to the letter, and it had culminated in his terse, yet indulgent, command:

_I'm only gonna say this once, Carter. At ease._

She had been both grateful and gratified, and had done her best to return them to their former easy cameraderie, despite the vast gulf in their positions. Of course, "at ease" hardly described the way she had _ever_ felt around Jack O'Neill, regardless of his rank; especially in the years since they had confessed their forbidden feelings for one another...

"Well, that's done it!" McKay exclaimed in triumph, breaking into Sam's ruminations. "It...oh, it's SG-21, General."

"They're early," O'Neill commented, but without apparent concern. "Open the iris."

Hammond did so, and moments later Lieutenant Jennifer Hailey appeared at the top of the ramp. Next came Senior Airman Simon Wells, followed closely by Nyan, the Bedrosian archaeologist SG-1 had met several years earlier. Major Ian Hules brought up the rear.

"Finally," Daniel said in Sam's ear. "Something about this SGC I actually recognise."

"Come on," Jack motioned to SG-1.

"Excuse us, sir," Sam said to Hammond, reflexively. "Uh... I mean..."

"Not to worry, Colonel," Hammond chortled softly. "At least you're not kneeling at my feet, like the people from the reality where Rome never fell."

"Wait, you encountered a world in which Rome never—"

"Daniel!" O'Neill barked impatiently.

"Oh, right, coming," Daniel said vaguely. "We'll talk more later, sir?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I am _never _going to get used to _that_," the archaeologist told Teal'c, following him out.

"It is a most peculiar turn of events," Teal'c agreed. "Perhaps even more so than Doctor Weir as your nation's President."

"Well, now," Daniel temporised, "I'm not sure it's _more _peculiar..."

"Well, howdy, boys and girl!" The General welcomed SG-21, as he entered the Gateroom, ahead of SG-1. "What brings you home so—"

"Sam!" Hailey interrupted him, shouting in delight, as she caught sight of who was following the General. She ran forward impetuously, throwing off her gear and launching herself at Carter. "You're back!"

"Uh, hello, um, Jennifer," Carter replied, uncomfortably, her eyes meeting the General's over the diminutive Lieutenant's head, an eyebrow raised. He smiled at her discomfort.

"Daniel, _good_ to see you!" Senior Airman Simon Wells stepped forward to greet the archaeologist warmly, grabbing his hand and shaking it hard.

"Uh, hello, Simon, how are you, how's the baby?"

Wells's hand fell away. "Baby?" he shot a barely-disguised look of panic at Hailey.

"No baby here!" she immediately declared. "I _swear._"

"Oh... um... right..." Daniel stammered, as Major Hules claimed his hand in a firm, welcoming grip.

"Teal'c!" Nyan exclaimed, turning from the careful placement of his equipment. He, like Hailey, ran forward precipitately, but he stopped short of offering the imposing Jaffa an embrace. He held out an arm, and Teal'c received the traditional Jaffa greeting from him with alacrity. "Tek ma te, Master Teal'c."

"Tek ma tek, Nyan. I am pleased to see you well."

"You're pleased to see _me _well? You're the one who has been missing—"

"_As I was saying,_" General O'Neill interrupted these touching moments in a booming voice, clearly petulant at having been ignored, "and I _am _sorry to break up this here little pseudo-reunion, but—"

"_Pseudo_-reunion, sir?" Major Hules was quick to pick up on the qualifier, as was only to be expected from such an accomplished linguist.

"Yes. As in, not _really _one."

"How so, sir?"

Jack made an all-encompassing motion with his hand. "These guys—them—are not whom they appear."

"Not... not.... clones?" Nyan asked in hushed tones, taking a small step back, eyeing Sam with deep misgiving.

"No, no," Jack hurriedly reassured him, to the Bedrosian's obvious relief. He turned to the others. "We had some trouble with clones a while back, Nyan kind of had a bad experience with Clone Sam," he explained. "Scarred him." He turned back to the newly-arrived team. "So," he invited, "if not clones, then...?" he allowed the end the sentence to remain unfinished, for all the world like a school teacher expecting an answer to be filled in by an eager students.

Hailey's arms, still embracing Sam, immediately dropped to her sides. "Alternate reality?"

"Go to the head of the class."

"Where else would she go?" Hules commented, _sotto voce._

"But, that notwithstanding, I would like an answer to my not-yet-finished question." He turned to Hules. "What brings you back so soon, Major?" He grinned. "Didn't want to miss the play-offs?"

"Nah, it's only the first round. And it's not like there won't be four more days of the Test Match," Hules grinned in return. "Unless, of course, your poor Cubs manage to get all out twice on the first day, and my Chargers declare."

"What's he talking about?" Sam asked Daniel out of the side of her mouth. "Declare what?"

"Beats me," Daniel denied all knowledge.

"I believe Major Hules refers to the game of cricket, Colonel Carter," Teal'c informed her solemnly. "To 'declare' is to retire from the field of combat, having scored sufficient points to make doubtful the opposition's attempts to equal or better such a number."

"Runs," General O'Neill corrected.

"O'Neill?"

"They're called _runs_, not points, and I cannot believe it takes a Jaffa from Chulak to, well, _almost_ explain the rules of cricket to a couple of red-blooded Americans! I mean, that is just _wrong! _Cricket's the American pastime, for cryin' out loud!"

Sam and Daniel were bereft of speech.

"Is not baseball the American pastime, O'Neill?"

"Never heard of it."

"Uh... okay. Ever heard of hockey?" Daniel was curious what a Jack O'Neill who didn't know hockey would be like.

"Of course I've heard of hockey! It's the sport of kings."

"I think that's horse racing."

"No, it's hockey."

"It's horse racing."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is t—"

"Sir!" Hules interrupted this bickering, an appreciative twinkle in his eye. "Sorry to interrupt the intellectual discourse—really, it reminds me of being at home with my kids—but I'm afraid the reason we came back early had nothing to do with _any _sport. Unfortunately," he continued, sobering, "it's... well, it's not _good _news, sir."

Jack sighed. "It never is." His face brightened. "And I can't wait to hear _all_ about it!" he said, with false cheer. "So why don't you go on and get cleared, and then you can tell us of this not-good news you have chosen to bring back instead of the souvenir shotglass I_ specifically_ requested?"

"Actually, General..." Hules produced a small, fabric-wrapped package from his pack with something of a flourish.

"Major Hules, before you make the presentation, will you excuse me?" Nyan asked humbly. "I'd like to get straight down to the Infirmary."

Hules looked a question at O'Neill. Nyan, though he had been on Earth for several years and had managed to assimilate quite remarkably in that time, still had a little trouble coming to grips with little things like institutional chain of command.

"Sure, Nyan, go on," O'Neill waved his hands in a shooing motion, quirking a lip at the youngster's CO. "Tell your girlfriend the rest'll be down in a minute."

As the young Bedrosian made a hasty exit, SG-1 shared a look.

"His girlfriend... wait, Cassie is dating _Nyan?_"

"Yes, Daniel. Why not?"

"Well, I... no, no reason. I just... I guess I don't love the thought of her dating anyone."

"Well, me _either_," Jack said, as one pointing out the blindingly obvious. "But since we gave her the medical knowledge of about a thousand doctors the galaxy over and put her to work for us in this insane asylum, I think the least we can do is let her go to the odd movie with the guy of her choice _without_," this, pointedly directed at Teal'c, "threatening to have him killed is he steps out of line."

"Nyan's actually a really _good_ choice," Sam said, with a smile. "I wonder why we never thought of that?"

"Well, maybe 'cause our Nyan's in love with Ha—" Daniel broke off, as Sam—and even Teal'c—turned curious eyes his way, sensing gossip. "Nevermind."

"I believe that Nyan will indeed make a suitable mate for Cassandra Fraiser," Teal'c allowed. "In... fifty or, perhaps, sixty years."

"Funny, Teal'c. That's what you said to me about Sam." He paused. "Well, except that instead of fifty or sixty years you said 'never.'"

Teal'c furrowed his brow. "I cannot believe that I would ever suggest that you were not a suitable mate for Colonel Carter, O'Neill, in this or any other universe."

Sam blanched a little at this frank admission. The General before her seemed very interested in the news the she and their own version of him would receive a Teal'c blessing to their union, if such a union were to be proposed. She felt heat rise to her cheeks, and could only be glad that Daniel was clearly still pondering the thought of their two rescued alien refugees, Cassie and Nyan, as an item, and was not paying attention to the awkward and uncomfortable topic at hand. Or was, at least, pretending not to.

"So," O'Neill said, into the silence brought on by Teal'c's declaration. "There was a gift?"

"Oh, yes, sir," Hules realised he was still holding it in his hand. "It's not exactly a shot glass, General, but I thought it was kind of..."

Jack quickly unwrapped the small package, then smiled and held aloft a cylindrical metallic object resembling a miniature version of something from which Vikings might once have quaffed ale. "Not a shotglass, more a tankard, really, but still, Hules, I have to say—"

"Sam," Daniel's oddly expressionless voice cut through O'Neill's jocular words and captured everyone's attention.

"Yes, Daniel?" Sam responded, her voice equally as bland.

"Does that cup look like it's made from what I think it looks like it's made from?" he asked.

"Um. Well." Sam's kept her face carefully neutral. "If you think it looks like it's made from Replicator blocks, then, uh, yeah, it looks like it's made from what you think it looks like it's made from."

Jack dropped the cup, and it made a loud clang on the concrete floor of the Gateroom. He stared at it where it lay.

"Replicators?" he asked, with a grimace.

"Replicators," SG-1 confirmed, in chorus.

There was a long interval as he continued staring down at the cup.

"Nuts."

_*************************************_

**Author's Note: **Apologies for the blatant cross- and self-promotion in here. For more on SG-21, why not also read the aptly titled _SG-21_ by, er, me?


	8. Chapter 8: Lunch?

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon, Rodney McKay, Ba'al, Walter Harriman, George Hammond, Jennifer Hailey, Nyan, Simon Wells, Ian Hules, Reynolds, John Sheppard, Ke'ra.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers and References:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Prisoners (02.03) Learning Curve (03.05), Past and Present (03.11), New Ground (03.19), 2010 (04.16), Prodigy (04.19), Exodus (04.22), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Proving Ground (05.13), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), Sight Unseen (6.13), The Changeling (06.19), Full Circle (07.01), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02). Stargate Atlantis: Rising (01.01), Vegas (05.19)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

**Author's Note: **Apologies, once again, for the long wait, if wait you have... I'm pretty sure the next one won't be so long in coming. (And may actually begin to tie some stuff together, hopefully into a beautifully crocheted bedspread that makes some kind of sense.) My thanks for sticking around, and to all those who have left reviews. It does the body good.

No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill. May contain nuts.

**Not A Terrible Reality**

_**Chapter 8: Lunch?**_

"Sir, I... what's this about?" Hules asked O'Neill, with some concern.

"Debrief as soon as Cassie's done with you, Major," O'Neill ordered shortly, and Hules could tell he wasn't going to get any more out of the General until then.

"Yes, sir," he acknowledged, motioning to Hailey and Wells that they should follow him out of the Gateroom. They instantly obeyed, seeming more than a little unsettled by recent events, and SG-1 watched, bemused, as Wells put a protective arm around Hailey's shoulder, pulling her petite form close.

Daniel put his chin on Sam's shoulder, and asked in a low voice: "So, he's enlisted and she's an officer, right?"

"Right."

"Hmm. Interesting military heirarchy they have here."

Sam thought of herself—her _other _self—and the General, married, for all the world to see. "Yep."

"In the meantime, O Visitors from Beyond," that General turned to them, casting Daniel a glare that caused him to spring back from Sam without conscious thought. "Lunch?"

Sam realised abruptly that she was starving, not having eaten since downing an MRE—without, blessedly, tasting it—several hours before they stepped back through the Gate. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

"Food!" Daniel nodded emphatically, rubbing his hands together.

"Some sustenance would indeed be welcome, O'Neill."

With a wordless grin, the General led them from the Gateroom, and down the well-worn corridors to the Commissary.

It was a strange and alien feeling, Teal'c mused, to be immersed in a different reality and yet have it not feel alien and strange. To see O'Neill, his friend, comrade and brother, as the long-established leader of this facility was eminently as it should be, as was seeing his obvious distress over the absence of his wife. For that wife to be Colonel Carter was even more apposite. And seemingly inevitable, in every other universe but their own.

It was a very great pity, Teal'c had always considered, that his two teammates were forbidden from entering into the true partnership their for one another would otherwise have dictated. It was indeed troubling to think that they might never find the courage to shed the restraints put upon their lives by their service to an entity in many ways as controlling and demanding as the false-god he once served: The United States Air Force. However, both were honorable and duty-bound warriors, who were, Teal'c knew, infinitely unlikely to put their own desires, their own _needs_, ahead of the greater good of the Tau'ri, or the galaxy at large. Much as he often wished they would.

Teal'c watched them now, Colonel Carter and this other O'Neill: one who did not live under the yoke of such unfortunate contraint. He saw in them an echo of the very same unspoken empathy that existed between the couple he knew, despite the lamentable fact that they were not, in the Tau'ri sense of the term, a "couple." The meaningful glances, the telling placement of their bodies to be always in close proximity to each other, the utterly instinctual manner in which they fell into step, their rhythms and patterns hardly diverging as they negotiated the SGC's corridors. O'Neill was attempting to explain the finer, more arcane, points of cricket to a much-diverted Colonel Carter, and her bright smile flashed up at him repeatedly as he—Teal'c believed was the term—"cracked wise" on the subject.

There was a light in her eyes as she responded to O'Neill's irreverent humor that he had seldom, if ever, seen when she was in the company of Pete Shanahan. The police officer was certainly entertaining—though often in a manner that did not seem entirely deliberate—and it was clear that Colonel Carter cared for him a great deal. He was, in fact, a good man (which even O'Neill had begrudgingly conceded) whom Teal'c esteemed as both an officer of the law and as the man with whom his teammate had elected to share her life. He appeared to be an able provider and an adequate protector; not that Colonel Carter was in need of either, but Teal'c was a traditionalist at heart, and expected a man to be worthy of his mate in both physical prowess and indisputable courage.

On those two counts alone, it would take an extraordinary man to be worthy of Colonel Carter, and Teal'c was not entirely convinced that Pete Shanahan was such a one. O'Neill, however...

Their small party was now approaching the doorway to the Commissary, and Teal'c brought his ruminations to a halt. He knew that he would require a large caloric intake if he were to be of appropriate assistance in whatever would be required of them to return to their own universe, in addition to any other service he may be asked to render in their current one. He threw off all thoughts of unresolved emotion and misplaced affections, and turned his mind to speculating on what forms of nourishment might be offered on this parallel SGC's menu.

O'Neill entered the large, grey mess hall—this room, unlike the Infirmary, looked exactly the same as their own—ahead of his guests, and the unmelodic sound of metal grinding against concrete could be heard all around the room as chairs were pushed back, junior officers and enlisted personnel springing to their feet.

The General made an exasperated sound. "Alright, alright!" he groused. "At ease, everyone! Seriously, what is _with _this—?"

"Sam!"

"Daniel!"

"Teal'c!"

"Oh. So, you're _not_ springing to attention, then?"

A low chuckle rumbled around the room.

"Yes, yes, very funny. You're all on report. And before any of you start in on the '_Thank God!'_sand the '_Where have you been?'_s, let me just make it clear, once and for all, that _this _SG-1 is not _our _SG-1."

Colonel Reynolds, one of several SGC members that the visiting Sam, Daniel and Teal'c recognised, gave a discreet cough, and a rather knowing smile. "Yes, General, we're aware of that."

"Good! Finally! Glad to know that the grapevine is back in working order. I was worried I was gonna have to start putting out memos." O'Neill looked around at his beaming subordinates. "But, here's a question: if you know they're not our guys, what's with the reception?"

"Well, they stopped us all from seeing those damned creepy day-glo bugs that can go through walls," a voice answered on a chuckle. "So, in my book, they're alright."

"Major Sheppard?" Daniel asked. The spiky dark hair and piercing blue eyes were unmistakable, but the Major had been in exile at McMurdo before quite recently being seconded onto Elizabeth Weir's Atlantis Expedition, so seeing him in the SGC, and with an SG-4 badge on his arm, was something of a surprise.

"Yes?"

"Oh, I mean... hello."

"Hi!" He gave Daniel a penetrating look. "I'm dead, huh?" he asked casually.

"Oh, no. Not... that we know of, anyway."

"Dammit, not dishonorably discharged again? I mean, do I _look _like I'd make an even half-way decent cop?"

"Oh, no, no, you're in the military, you're just not... in the galaxy."

"He's not...?" O'Neill trailed off.

"Well, at least, we hope... not."

"What Daniel means, sir, is..."

The General held up a staying hand. "No, no, Colonel Carter. I'm enjoying a real Hanging Out With Daniel Moment here. Please don't spoil it for me by explaining his words in any kind of concise and easy-to-understand manner."

"I find Doctor Jackson emininently easy to understand, General O'Neill," a melodic female voice said from behind them. "In fact, there are times when he is a little too transparent for his own, or anyone else's, good." There was a hint of an aggrieved sting in her voice, suggesting that Daniel's opposite number had hurt her feelings in some, perhaps quite personal, way.

Daniel spun around, lightning fast.

"Linea?"

If Daniel had been surprised to see John Sheppard, he was utterly flabbergasted to see the brilliant, if genocidal, lunatic who had once been known as Destroyer of Worlds, perfectly at home in the SGC Commissary.

She was puzzled. "No, my name's Ke'ra..."

Daniel blinked, trying to clear his head. Well, yes, of course. Considering her youthful appearance here, this Linea must also have been affected by the experiment she had conducted on the planet Vyus, just as she had in their own. Searching for eternal life—though claiming she was there to cure the infertility plaguing the planet—she had managed to set off an explosion that had resulted in a population-wide pathology that had wiped years off the Vyans' bodies, and the memories from their minds.

In their reality, Ke'ra had found a way to reverse the memory loss, if not the age loss, and, convinced that she could not possibly have been the monster SG-1 had unknowingly freed from a well-deserved prison sentence, took the treatment that would cure her of it. Upon regaining her memories, she had rediscovered her true evil nature, and – repelled – had first wanted to kill herself, but had instead chosen to lose her memory again, and to live out her existence on Vyus as a respected scientist and healer.

In this reality, it seemed she—or, perhaps, the SGC—had made a different decision.

"Yes, well," the General was quick to intervene, blasting a furious glance at Daniel, "I suppose it was only a matter of time till we discovered an existence where someone's parents went another way. Just think, McKay," he said, sending an evil grin the scientist's way, "maybe there's a version of Earth where your parents gave you a proper boy's name!"

McKay's spluttered objection, hampered by having his mouth full, sent a ripple of good-natured laughter around the room. Sheppard seemed to particularly relish the jibe, not bothering to conceal his grin as he nodded a laconic head at the General and swaggered back to his table.

"But, sir," protested Ke'ra, not to be deterred, "the name Linea does seem kind of familiar—"

"Of course it does," O'Neill said gently, his hand going surreptiously to a pager-like contraption at his waist. "It's a type of pasta, isn't it?

"No, that's linguine," Ke'ra refuted. "I _know _I know that name, I just can't... quite... remember..."

Just then, two burly orderlies entered the room, followed by a very brisk Cassandra Fraiser, a full syringe in hand. "Don't worry, Ke'ra," Cassie said to the startled woman, as she crossed quickly to her side, "just a tiny pinch, and you'll feel much better."

With a smile for SG-1, and a nod of confident affirmation at the base's CO, the young doctor draped one of Linea's—Ke'ra's—arms over her shoulders, and helped her out, the orderlies taking up flanking positions, on the lookout for the least sign of trouble.

Following this departure, the personnel in the Commissary heaved an almost undetectible sigh of collective relief and took their seats once more, resuming their interrupted conversations and studiously avoiding the visiting SG-1's shocked faces. The drugging and subsequent dragging away of one of their own number didn't seem to have unsettled them one bit; if anything, it seemed to be even more mundanethan their encounters with people from alternate realities.

Sam, Daniel and Teal'c, to the contrary, stared at O'Neill, awaiting an explanation.

"We have to do that once in a while," the General shrugged.

"But, wha—?"

"No, Daniel. No. First, food; _then _indignant recrimination."

Daniel considered a moment. "Deal."

The four made their way to the chow line, and piled up their trays with an assortment of food and food-like substances. As they reached the desserts, Jack reached out and placed a tall glass full of green Jell-O on Sam's plate, giving her a smile.

"Uh..." she stifled a protest.

"What, you don't like Jell-O?" He was taken aback. This Sam might not be his Sam, but she couldn't be _that _different, surely?

"No, no, of course I do. This is fine, sir. Thank you."

"Fine?"

"Well, to be honest, I prefer the blue kind."

"There's a blue kind?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what does it taste like?"

"Um. Well, it kind of tastes... blue, sir."

"Blue?"

"Yes, sir."

"You people are just weird."

On that note, he sat down at the table across from Daniel, Carter to his left, Teal'c to his right. And it felt _so _right, so perfectly normal, that he had to remind himself sternly that all was not right in his world at all. He made himself recall the many ways in which everything was still so very wrong, despite their presence... not the least of which was that he was going to have to justify his actions regarding Ke'ra-AKA-Linea to yet _another _Daniel Jackson.

"She's one of the best immunologists we've ever seen," he said, without preamble, "not to mention a brilliant biochemist. As a researcher, her value cannot be overstated. So, as long as she doesn't remember she's a sociopathic, conscienceless mass murderer, she's just about the greatest asset we have in the fight against all kinds of deadly diseases and disorders and... well, other things like that."

Sam and Daniel gave O'Neill a doubtful look.

"So what if she has caused the deaths of untold millions? As long as she can work a centrifuge—and perhaps find that cure for infertility for which she's been searching," he cast them a meaningful glance, "—then our orders are to keep her happy and productive and make sure that the gaping hole in her memory where the psychopath used to live never gets filled."

He held Sam's gaze, and she nodded, as though seeing the force of his pragmatic argument. Turning to Daniel, he knew he hadn't gotten off so easily.

"But... but she did _choose _to give up her memories of who she was, right? I mean, you're not forcibly keeping her ignorant of—?"

"And what if we are?"

There was a hush, and even Sam's previous signs of being swayed by his logic disappeared.

"So you just... you keep her prisoner here? And if she ever starts to recall anything about her true past, you just... just _make_ her forget? With what? Her own memory-erasing drug?"

Daniel could not keep the judgement out of his voice; not that he appeared to be trying very hard.

"What would you have us do, Daniel?" Jack knew his voice had grown harsh, but he didn't care. "Allow her out in the galaxy, free to regain her memory at any time, and start wreaking havoc on innocent worlds, just 'cause we didn't have the moral fortitude to keep a potential – damn, a _proven –_ Hitler-style crazy person out of harm's way?"

Daniel moved to object, but Jack over-rode him. "And, ya know what? I've had this conversation with you before, and it's not any more fun this time around."

There was a uncomfortable silence as they all turned their attention to their trays. Jack was sorry for it, but he knew there was no way he was going to win this one, so the only thing to do was to retire from the field. Daniel had the moral high ground staked out in every known universe, and there was no way this particular version was going to abandon his post. Of course, Jack knew he _was _in a slightly gray area, morals-wise, with regards to Ke'ra, but dammit. They were doing what they had to do to ensure that no one else suffered at the hands of her genius; and that, just maybe, she might make up for the evil she had done, in some small way, by helping humanity out, instead of hurting it.

But for right now, tensions at their table were irritatingly high, and Jack was aware that it was up to him to find a way to lighten the mood; to restore the balance in this facsimile of their tight-knit circle; to get them all to declare an unspoken agree-to-disagree armistice. At least, that's how it would have been with _his _SG-1...

Clearing his throat to draw their attention, he held up a hand, his thumb and index finger making a pinching motion about an inch apart. "Plus, she's _this _close to figuring out how to cure Poor Grammar-itis."

Not one of his best, but it seemed to do the trick. Daniel tried, but couldn't keep his lips from twitching, and Sam filled Jack with a certain mild pride in himself by laughing right out loud.

"I am unfamiliar with this ailment, O'Neill." Teal'c was the only one of the three who appeared to miss the humor.

"Of _course_ you are! You have the best grammar of anyone on the planet. At least, anyone who is _not _an Elizabethan poet."

Teal'c inclined his head, accepting the compliment.

"My mother was a noted stickler for the correct use of language, O'Neill."

"Also, for the over-use of it, one assumes?"

"I do not understand."

O'Neill's lips quirked. "I know." He shared an amused glance with Sam and Daniel. "So," he changed the subject, thankfully, "ya think we have time for cake?"

"General O'Neill to the Briefing Room," came the very professional-sounding Texan drawl of George Hammond over the base speakers, before anyone could answer the all-important cake question. "General O'Neill to the Briefing Room."

"Nevermind," O'Neill shook his head sadly, and rose with an air of pronounced martyrdom. "It's always 'O'Neill, to the _this' _and 'O'Neill to the _that,' _and never any time for cake..."

Teal'c looked down at his now mostly empty tray, and picked up a package containing a familiar cake-like material that in this place appeared to be called a "Twinkle." He tossed it to O'Neill, who caught it dextrously.

O'Neill put a hand on the big man's shoulder, and gave it a tap. "Thanks," he said gravely. "But it's just not the same when it's not on a plate."

And on that mournful note, he led them out of the Commissary, and up to the Briefing Room.


	9. Chapter 9: Credit Where Credit's Due

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon, Rodney McKay, Ba'al, Walter Harriman, George Hammond, Jennifer Hailey, Nyan, Simon Wells, Ian Hules, Reynolds, John Sheppard, Ke'ra, Bill Lee.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers and References:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Prisoners (02.03) Learning Curve (03.05), Past and Present (03.11), Jolinar's Memories (03.12), The Devil You Know (03.13), New Ground (03.19), 2010 (04.16), Prodigy (04.19), Exodus (04.22), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Proving Ground (05.13), Menace (05.19), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), Sight Unseen (6.13), The Changeling (06.19), Full Circle (07.01), Space Race (07.08), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02). Stargate Atlantis: Rising (01.01), Vegas (05.19)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill.

_**Not A Terrible Reality**_

_**Chapter 9: Credit Where Credit's Due**_

The cup made of Replicator parts was trapped behind the strongest Goa'uld-based forcefield McKay could find in the depths of his Science Lab. It sat on the briefing room table, pretending innocence, but Sam knew the evil that lurked within, and surveyed it with a feeling of all-pervasive dread. She wished she had to hand one of the disruptors that their General O'Neill had invented—and Thor had made manifest—using the Ancient knowledge he'd downloaded during his most recent brush with the Repository of Knowledge. She watched the cup for any signs of it sprouting legs, or displaying any kind of arachnid-like behavior, but it lay blessedly dormant.

Seated around the table, eyes also on the Replicator-block "souvenir shotglass," were a huge cast of characters: her team and General O'Neill, along with all of SG-21, plus McKay, Jonas, Paul Davis and Cassandra Fraiser.

"So, Major Hules," the General kicked things off, voice deceptively calm. "Report?"

"Well, sir," SG-21's leader said, "we proceeded, as ordered, to P4K-991, to assess the strength of the Aschen garrison there..."

"The Aschen?" Daniel enquired. "Ah, yes, this reality's arch nemesis. I was wondering when we were going to get back to them." Jack shot him a quelling glance.

"...and to try to confirm or refute the rumours we have been hearing that they're allying with another powerful race who are not exactly our biggest fans."

"The Goa'uld. Yes, I recall the mission parameters. Since I _created them. _And how did that work out for ya?"

"It went fine, sir. In fact, better than fine. We discovered that the Aschen had indeed contacted the Goa'uld in hopes of cementing an alliance against us..."

"You call that _fine?" _O'Neill protested.

"Actually, he called it _better _than fine," Daniel corrected.

"Well, yes, sir. Fine—_better _than fine—in that the Goa'uld told them to take a very long walk off a deep space weapons platform, sir."

"The Goa'uld turned them down?"

"Yes, sir. From what we could discover from the friendly Jaffa in service to Camulus, the System Lords decided that the Aschen were too untrustworthy... even for them. They seemed to think the Aschen might come in as allies, but wouldn't necessarily stay that way."

"Well, sure. I mean, they're not crazy."

There was a long beat as every head at the table turned as one to stare at the General.

"Okay, so they're crazy, since they're Goa'uld and all, but they're not _crazy, _as in, enough to trust the Aschen." The stares remained upon him. "What?" He shrugged. "Credit where credit's due." He canvassed the room silently for agreement, but was met with only blank faces. "So," he continued, into the silence, "are the Aschen all depressed now, what with not having a date to the Prom?"

"Not so you'd notice, sir. In fact... if I had to describe their mood, I'd have to go with... distinctly upbeat."

"The _Aschen?_" O'Neill eyes narrowed. _"_Are you sure you were one the right planet? I mean, yes, they're genocidal megalomaniacs, but they do at least _look _human, and that might easily confuse one. You sure you didn't gate to, oh, say, Edora, by mistake?"

"No, sir, I swear it. I am pretty sure I even saw one of their high commanders _smile_."

"Smile?"

"Yes, sir. Teeth and everything."

"Oh, I am so not liking the sound of this."

"No, sir. Us either. As far as Hailey could make out, from a truly impressive hacking of their computer system," he smiled at the blonde lieutenant, who couldn't completely conceal her smugness, "the reason they're so—for want of a better word—_happy_ is due to something they brought back from a newly-discovered world."

"The Aschen are discovering worlds, now?" O'Neill made a face.

"Yes, sir. Hailey?"

"Well, General," she piped up eagerly, "it seems that the Aschen have designed a computer program not dissimilar to the one Sam and I put together about four years ago. Remember, Daniel asked Sam to help prove that the Stargates were created by a race other than the Go'auld? And so we tried to find Gates that the snakes hadn't found, using a complex algorithm of binomial interdices to try to pinpoint viable glyph sequences through the use of mathematical probabilty and predictive—"

"Yeah, yeah," O'Neill waved off her continued explanation. "I know the one."

"Anyway, the Aschen haven't perfected the calculations yet, to make theirs as effective or as accurate as ours, but they're getting close. They've managed a couple of hits, found a couple of addresses for themselves; most of them are from the Abydos cartouche, actually, but the latest one is one that our Gate Hunter program only recently discovered. We haven't been there yet, but it is the planet we've designated P2K-499, and they've already been there, so—"

"I'm sorry, _which _planet?" Daniel sat up straighter in his chair.

"P2K-499."

"Isn't that—?" Daniel leaned close to Sam, questioning.

"Where we found Reese? Yep."

Daniel turned to face Jack, his face full of concern.

"The Aschen have found Reese."

McKay snorted. "Is it just me, or should there have been some kind of dramatic music right then? Da da da _dum! _Come on, Jackson! Could you be _any _more forebodingly cryptic?"

Daniel squinted at him. "Uh, no, not really. No."

"I know I'm gonna regret asking this, but what's a Reese?" O'Neill asked.

"You mean _who. _She is the creator of the Replicators—she's an android."

"My original wording stands. Sounds like a _what _to me.

"No, Jack, she was—" Daniel's voice was aggrieved, an old hurt, an old pain, resurfacing briefly. "She was built by an alien scientist—really, he must have been a genius—as a replacement for his daughter, we think. She was programmed to be amazingly lifelike, but eternally child-like as well... and when someone tried to take away her toys, she had a temper tantrum, and ruined a whole civilization. But for all that, she was... she was just a young girl, Jack." Daniel thought a moment. "Albeit a young girl who created one of the most mindlessly destructive powers in the galaxy," he conceded.

"'Was'? You said _was? _What happened to her?"

"You... or, rather, our Jack, shot her." Daniel carefully avoided Jack's gaze.

"Ah. So... not a good idea resurrecting her, then?

"Well... ah. No. Not really."

"Thanks a lot! It's just so comforting to know that our greatest enemies have in their possession a creation that I, in another lifetime, found it necessary to shoot, despite—from the look in your eyes, I'm guessing—your recommendation otherwise, Daniel."

"Uh, sir? I'm rather more worried about something else," Paul Davis interpolated. "Going back to what Hailey said: if the Aschen are out there finding Gate addresses... well, we know they're interested in global conquest; and they are definitely technologically superior to almost every other human civilization we've encountered. What happens if they get lucky and hit on Madrona, or the Land of the Light, or..." he trailed off, looking straight at Nyan, who's eyes widened in sudden panic.

Hailey and Wells regarded at him fondly, and shared a knowing smirk.

"Something funny about the idea of your teammate's planet being invaded by insurance salesmen?" O'Neill demanded.

"Oh, no, sir. It's just... well, it's doubtful they'll be finding Nyan's homeworld... or anyone else's homeworld, either, sir." Wells gave Hailey's shoulder a prideful pat.

"Lieutenant?"

"Oh, it's just that I... um... may have accidentally set off an undetectible cascading virus in their main computer banks that caused their whole Gate Hunter program to rewrite the data it had correlated, as well as preventing the future prediction of any possible viable combinations."

"Perfect!" McKay smiled at her icily. "You foiled their evil plan wonderfully there, Hailey. Unless they have, oh, I dunno... a _backup program!_" McKay's sense of irony was nothing if not subtle. "And possibly more than one computer network!"

"Oh, gee whiz, Doc, if only _I _had thought of that! Of course I know that we're only buying a little time... but I did manage to work in a patch that should prevent any back-up inserted into that particular mainframe from functioning effectively. It won't stop them forever, of course, but it'll take them time to discover what went wrong. And while they're concentrating on that, maybe they won't be concentrating on this... this Reese thingy."

O'Neill regarded her steadily. "Nice." He complimented, then looked to Hules. "Your orders?"

"Er... no. Except that I did tell them to use their initiative."

"Good work all around, then. Which would appear to put your fears to rest, at least for a while, Davis." His eyes crinkled. "And you know I like nothing better than putting off fears for as long as humanly," he nodded to Teal'c, "or as Jaffaly," he nodded to Jonas, "or as Kelownanly," he nodded to Nyan, "or as Bedrosianly as possible."

"We're still humans you know, General."

"Hmm. Yes. If you say so." Jack shrugged.

"Hey!" Jonas and Nyan objected, as one.

"You know, Jennifer," Sam said, quick to change the subject, drawing off fire from the General, as she so often did. It was reflex, by now. "I'd really like to take a look at the specs of this Gate Hunter program of yours, as well as the virus you created to wipe out the Aschen data."

"Yes, it sounds... ingenious," Daniel said, trying to sound enthusiastic about the gadgetry. "Unfortunately, it came too late to keep the Aschen from getting their hands Reese; and through her, access to Replicator technology."

"But the question is," Sam faced him, "how much do the Aschen actually _know_ about that technology right now? I mean, I've never seen a Replicator cup, so what exactly has this universe's Reese been making?" She turned towards the others seated at the table. "In our universe, she created the Replicators as toys, which then slipped out from under her control, and are now the scourge of two galaxies—that we know of." She looked to O'Neill. "Sir, if she has created them here... if the Aschen have let them loose... if they know what they have and are prepared to use it..."

"So, what we need to do is to find this android, this Reese, and find out what she's capable of doing, what she's been telling the Aschen, and what she's willing to do for them. Or what she has already _done_ for them."

"Yes, sir. That sounds about right."

"Okay, so we need to retrace the Aschen's steps. Shou;d be easy enough. We'll just gear up a team—your team, I guess, Sam, since you've been to this planet of hers before, and get them to check the DHD..."

"Uh, sir?" Jonas raised a hand.

"What is it, Jonas?"

"Well, I've just checked the logs to see why we haven't been to that particular planet yet ourselves." He held aloft a small datapad that Sam recognised as being of Serrakan design, much like the viewscreen that was embedded in the briefing room table. "Turns out, analysis of the planet's surface revealed high levels of what we think is xi radiation."

"Zigh radiation, eh?"

"Yes. Xi, as in, the Greek letter."

"I knew that!

"Sorry."

"What, you think I never dated a sorority girl?" He threw Sam a quick wink. "So, this xi radiation... that's bad, huh?" The General looked to Cassie for her opinion.

"Very bad," she said definitively, and Sam felt her heart swell. Their little Cassie, the lone survivor of a Nirrti-engineered holocaust of the planet Hanka, sitting here so authorative, so sure of herself, and still so young. Yes, she had the Orbanian nanites implanted in her, which had given her a vast wealth of experience in her chosen field, but it was Cassie herself who was using that knowledge so effectively as to be the Chief Medical Officer of the SGC. Sam could not have been more proud if Cassie had been her own daughter, and in her own universe.

"Jack," Cassie was continuing, "xi radiation is absolutely lethal to humans, with even small amounts of exposure. And as far as we know, nothing is resistant to it—not even trinium—so even our strongest anti-radiation suits wouldn't be impervious."

"Really? It's that bad?"

"Really."

Jack scoffed a little. "If it's so crazy dangerous, then why haven't I ever even heard of it, hmm?"

"Maybe because you never read reports?" Jonas suggested, _sotto voce_.

"Or, apparently, comic books," Nyan added.

Cassie smiled. "Well, yes, both of those; and also because xi radiation is very rare. In fact, it was only theoretical till about ten years ago, when a Dr. William Lee discovered a trace amount of it emanating from a pin-sized piece of metal found in one of Sokar's labs, and brought back for study."

O'Neill grimaced at the mention of Sokar, and quickly noted his guests' alike discomfort at the name. "You know that jumped up Satan wannabe, I take it?" he asked of Sam, Daniel and Teal'c.

"Oh, yes." Sam felt her mouth draw itself into a grim line at the thought of that particular Goa'uld, and of what he had done to them all – particularly, her father.

"And he's plaguing you, too, with his Dante-inspired alternative lifestyle, I take it?"

"Actually," Sam said, rather pleased to be able to deny it. "No." She grinned. "We kicked his ass."

"Oh." For a moment, O'Neill seemed almost disappointed. "Well, good."

"Yep. It really was." She allowed her smile to linger briefly, then shook her head. "We didn't find any xi radiation in anything of his, however."

"Why not?"

"Well, partly because we basically just blew everything up and got the hell out of there, but mostly because, like General O'Neill, I've never even _heard_ of xi radiation."

There was a silence.

"Never?"

"No. Never. I mean, it's possible we simply call it by another name..."

Jonas and McKay both reached for datapads, and quickly scribbled away.

"Ah, but would xi radiation by any other name be as... deadly?" the General paraphrased to no one in particular. Sam shot him a look of amusement through her lashes, and he smiled back; that smile that she knew so well, the one that was for her alone. Their eyes held for a long second, then, realising where they were, and _who _they were, they both looked away; Sam, with a slight blush on her cheek and in some confusion.

"Done!" McKay and Jonas said, almost at the same time, and held up their work, giving each other grudging nods, clearly calling their impromptu contest a draw.

Sam didn't recognise the chemical equation at all, nor the diagram both had been kind enough to provide. "No. We've never encountered that. We haven't even _hypothesised_ that. And you said Bill Lee discovered it, Cassie?" Sam tried to keep the disbelief out of her voice. Bill was a solid scientist, and an able researcher, but she couldn't help that she didn't love the thought of him knowing more about something that she did, no matter what the universe.

"Yes."

"So am I to assume he's the worlds leading expert on this news-to-me kind of radiation?" O'Neill asked. "Can we perhaps give him a call, see what he has to say about—"

Cassie shook her head slowly. "I'm afraid not. He died, Jack. Also ten years ago" she said, causing Sam to feel immediate remorse for her uncharitable thoughts. "He, and everyone who had come within twenty feet of the source of the xi radiation."

"So... you're saying we can't send anyone in?"

"Not unless you _want _to worry about a whole SG team every time they get angry."

O'Neill gave Cassie a puzzled frown.

Nyan beamed at his girlfriend, the light of pride coming into his guileless brown eyes. "You wouldn't like them when they're angry. Sir."

"Oh, okay, I get it. The Sensational Hulk. Very good. Okay, so we can't send in a team." He paused for a minute, frowning. "Wait... how did the Aschen manage to get someone in there, then?"

"Either they didn't detect the xi radiation, and so didn't worry about sending in their personnel," Jonas answered him, "or they _did _detect the xi radiation.... and sent them in, anyway."

"Probably the latter, those no good, heartless, adding machines with eyes," O'Neill said with distaste, rubbing his neck. "Well, it sounds like it's time for us to call up the Cavalry."

"Cavalry?" Daniel suddenly rejoined the discussion. "Like, with horses?"

"No, Daniel, like with positronic interfaces. Hey!" Jack raised his voice suddenly. "Doctor Doom!"

At the sound of this seeming non sequitur—which delighted Nyan, and caused him to comment: "I guess her does read comic books!"—the Serrakan-designed communications screen popped up from the table once again; on it was a round, kindly face SG-1 knew all too well.

"Kumtraya!"


	10. Chapter 10: Just Like Old Times

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon, Rodney McKay, Ba'al, Walter Harriman, George Hammond, Jennifer Hailey, Nyan, Simon Wells, Ian Hules, Reynolds, John Sheppard, Ke'ra, Bill Lee, Harlan, Cameron Mitchell, Henry Boyd.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers and References:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Prisoners (02.03), Fair Game (03.03), Learning Curve (03.05), Past and Present (03.11), Jolinar's Memories (03.12), The Devil You Know (03.13), New Ground (03.19), Double Jeopardy (04.14), 2010 (04.16), Prodigy (04.19), Exodus (04.22), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Proving Ground (05.13), Menace (05.19), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), Sight Unseen (6.13), The Changeling (06.19), Full Circle (07.01), Space Race (07.08), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02). Stargate Atlantis: Rising (01.01), Vegas (05.19)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

**Author's Note:** With profuse apologies for the crazy-long delay. (Damn you, Amazon, and your reasonably-priced DVD box sets of TV shows that have yet to air in Singapore!) And many thanks, as always, for the lovely reviewage. You're all my heroes.

No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill. May contain nuts.

_**Not A Terrible Reality**_

_**Chapter 10: Just Like Old Times**_

Sam, Daniel and Teal'c stared at the screen in disbelief.

"Harlan," O'Neill said to the reason for their surprise, "I need you to get the Bladerunners ready for action, ASAP."

"Kumtraya!" Harlan said, clapping his hands and then circling them like he was playing the cymbals, as was his way.

"That's a yes, right?"

"Kumtr—"

"Okay, okay. Thanks, Harlan."

O'Neill turned back to his visitors.

"You brought Harlan here?" Daniel was incredulous. "To the SGC?"

"Of course."

A pause. A squint. "Why?"

"Well, I could hardly let android versions of SG-1 fall into the enemy's hands, their CPUs full of classified intel... nor could I have them running around the galaxy getting into who knows what kinds of trouble, which _of course _they would have." He pointed an accusatory finger in Daniel's face. "Especially the robot _you_."

Daniel considered this for a moment. "Fair point," he allowed.

"Plus, you think we were about to let anyone else use this technology? Let them make android versions of themselves, like some kind of bad guy production line? For cryin' out loud, the Aschen are already robotic enough without actually giving them super-strength, extra-intelligence and virtual immortality."

Sam gulped, and cast a rueful frown at Daniel and Teal'c. "Um... we, ah, just kind of took a chance with that one, didn't we?"

"Indeed."

"But how did you get around the power supply problem?" She turned back to the General. "When we met Harlan, we discovered that the artificial constructs he had created were forced to...well, recharge their batteries on his planet, and could not survive for very long away from it."

"True, but Sam just had us bring the glowy disco ball thing through, hooked up a couple of naquada generators to it, and _ipso facto presto!_ Instant android power source."

"Easy as that?"

"Just add naquada."

Sam, if possible, looked even more rueful. "I guess I really should've thought of that."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed. "It is most unlike you to not think of using a naquada generator as the solution to any problem we might encounter."

Sam sent Teal'c a speaking glance, pursed pink lips hiding her appreciation of this mild gibe.

"Aw, Sam, don't beat yourself up," Daniel was quick to defend her. "When we met Harlan, you hadn't even invented the naquada generator yet."

O'Neill sent an awed look Sam's way. "You _invented_ naquada generators in your reality?"

Sam shruggged, ducking her head modestly. "No, not really. I just adapted the Orbanian's design to our technology."

"Oh." The awe was quickly replaced with a faint hint of condecension. "See, we just... bought them from the Orbanians, and our Sam created an adaptor to get them to work with our stuff. Took her about fifteen minutes. But, y'know, you do it your way, we do it ours, I guess. Whatever works for you crazy kits."

There was a momentary silence.

"I'm sorry, did you just say 'you crazy _kits_'?" Daniel demanded.

"Uh. Yes?"

"Not 'kids'?"

"Now, _why _would I say kids? Baby goats, aren't they?"

"And yet 'kits' are baby cats, are they not?"

"What's your point?"

"You don't find that at all odd? To be referring to human beings as... as infant felines?"

"No. Should I?"

Daniel shook his head. "Fascinating."

O'Neill sighed, clearly resigned to furthering this discussion. "And just _what_ is so fascinating, pray tell?"

"The evolution of vernacular, the variations in local idiom that can develop in two such symmetrically aligned cultures; the fact that the etymology of, and the construction that can be placed upon, the simplest words is so—"

"Yes, yes, very fascinating. And, would you look at that, here we are. You infant felines," he threw Daniel a provocative smirk, "go on in. I need to have a little chat with Harlan about... something."

Entering the lab nicknamed, according to the sign on the door, "Westworld," SG-1 were surprised to be confronted with, not the replicas of themselves and O'Neill as they had expected, but a lone Air Force officer they all instantly recognised.

"Cam?" Sam asked, just as Daniel and Teal'c both said at once: "Major Mitchell?"

"Well, hey, guys!" the faux Mitchell greeted them with a wide grin. "You the substitutions for the SG-1 we robots aresubstitutions for?"

Sam blinked. "You're one of Harlan's robots?"

"Um. Yes."

"Oh." Sam nodded her head a little, processing this piece of news. "Right."

"Yeah. So, ever since I heard about you guys being here, I've been wondering... where am I?"

"I'm sorry?"

"In your universe, where am I? How come I'm not here with you guys?"

"Um... 'cause you're not on SG-1."

"No? Huh."

"Not that we wouldn't have you," Daniel hastened to reassure him. In fact, after Mitchell's heroic efforts in Antarctica, piloting the F-302 that had managed to buy them enough time to get to the Ancient Chair and destroy Anubis's fleet, they'd probably allow him to do anything. "It's just... we're a three person team, since Jack left."

The android Cam blanched, his face a mask of very human astonishment. "The _General _was on SG-1 in your reality?"

"Yeah, of course. He... he wasn't here?"

"Well, I guess he once was, yeah. Before my time. Before any of our time, really." He paused, considering. "What I'm saying is, the guy is old."

"I heard that!" O'Neill barked from the doorway.

"I _know!_" Mitchell tapped his android ear. "Super-hearing, remember? Part of the whole plastic fantastic deal?"

The General gave him a stern look, belied by the amused quirk to his lips. "So, how's it going, Bender?" he asked.

Sam choked on a laugh, and even Teal'c gave a chuckle. Daniel cast them an enquiring look.

"Bender is a fictional humanoid robot on the animated program _Futurama, _Daniel Jackson."

"Oh. Right. Of course. I don't... really watch TV."

"Dare I ask what you call the rest of us... I mean, of the robot versions of us... of the other us..."

O'Neill put a deliberate hand on Sam's shoulder, saving her from her own convolutions. She lowered her eyes in wordless thanks; he kept his hand there for longer than was quite necessary, and then slid it along the length of her shoulder. She felt a shiver as his thumb absentmindedly caressed the exposed skin on her neck.

"Well, aside from Bender here," he carried on, as though oblivious to their intimate positioning, "we have Data," he pointed to Daniel, "Iron Giant," he pointed to Teal'c, "and, ah, yes," he turned to her, hand tightening in its grip, eyes twinkling mischeviously. "T-X."

"T-X?"

"Uh huh."

"I'm a Terminator?"

"Technically, I think more of a Terminatrix."

Sam nodded. "Cool."

"Yes, I thought you'd like that."

Their eyes locked again in shared communion; they were both quite lost to all else for perhaps longer than they realised. Daniel gave a discreet cough, rousing them both from their trances; the General gave a start, and, belatedly noting the improper familiarity of his stance, removed his hand from Sam's shoulder with a jerk, embarrassment clear on his face. She felt a pang she couldn't help, and was determined to ignore. _Focus, Sam! _

"So, Bender!" O'Neill turned to the robot Mitchell. "You been briefed?"

"Yes, sir, I got it. I go through the Gate into a world of toxic soup, check it out, do my thing, send back the intel, then self-destruct."

"Sounds about right."

"Self-de_what?_" Daniel ejaculated, mouth agape.

"Self-destruct, Jackson. It's no big deal; can't have any of this deadly-to-you-poor-fragile-organic-types radiation stuff coming back through when I do, can we? Don't worry about it! We do it all the time."

"Do it all the _what?_"

"What exactly is the problem here, Daniel?"

"The problem here, _Jack_, is that these... these _Bladerunners_ of yours are sentient, self-aware creatures, not... not MALPs! You can't knowingly send them into danger and then make them kill themselves just because they might be radioactive—"

"Seriously, Jackson, chill. Just... take a minute. Breathe. Collect your thoughts. I can tell you're a more than a little het up by this whole thing—not the least 'cause I'm pretty sure 'sentient' and 'self-aware' mean kinda the same thing."

Daniel angled a look at Sam. "Did Cam Mitchell just correct my grammar?"

"Hey, all the cool kits are doing it," O'Neill interposed, with a grin.

Daniel sent him a glare.

"Look, Jackson, it's not that I don't appreciate the defence, but you should save your outrage for some other underdog cause. When I self-destruct, I don't exactly die, y'know. I just... I just start again."

"What do you mean, Cam?" Sam, of course, was curious. "How does that happen?"

"Well, Ol' Harlan found a way to download our minds from one Bladerunner to another, so we just make sure and create a latest-version backup before we end it all, and then we wake up here, all bright and shiny and new as the day we so bravely embarked on our final, lethal mission."

Daniel was not to be mollified. "But you're missing a part of your experience! A part of your existence!"

"Well, yeah, but since it's the part where I _die_, I'm okay with that."

Daniel paused a moment, thinking how he wouldn't mind skipping the memories of some of his more painful deaths, as well.

"No, it's still not right—"

"Look, Daniel, we have a good thing going here, _please _don't try to screw it up – again – with all this unionise-the-workers, robots-are-people-too doubletalk."

"Robots _are _people, too. For you, they're just... disposable people."

"No, not disposable. _Replaceable_." O'Neill caught the hurt look that crossed Mitchell's face. "No, I don't mean replaceable, I mean... oh, dammit, Bender, you know what I mean!"

Mitchell chuckled. "Yessir, I surely do. And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get out there and end my existence... just temporarily. You understand that, right, Jackson?"

With a pat on the shoulder for Daniel, a wink for Sam, a nod for Teal'c, and a salute for the General, he strode out of the room, shoulders back, head held high.

They stared after him, an uncomfortable silence prevailing.

"You know, as much as I love having them around, I just don't think I'll ever get used to the whole _I, Robot _thing," O'Neill commented, once again breaking the tense atmosphere that had sprung up between him and Daniel over the ethics of his reality's choices.

"I think you mean: Us, Robots," Daniel objected, going along, allowing himself to be brought down from his high horse. "And, yeah... it's a little... odd."

"So, what happened with the You, Robots of your universe?"

"They..." Sam sighed regretfully. "They died, taking out Cronus."

"Cronus?" O'Neill frowned. "I don't think I know him." Jack rubbed his neck, thinking. "Cronus... Cronus..."

Teal'c bristled at each repetition of the name, enough to cause O'Neill's attention to be drawn to him.

"Not a fan, T?"

"I am not. He was a powerful System Lord, among the most vicious and the most casually cruel." Teal'c looked directly into O'Neill's eyes. "He killed my father."

O'Neill held his outraged gaze for a beat, then shook his head.

"Teal'c... leaving aside the obvious cliche of your last statement – and, if your O'Neill is anything at all like me, you know how I feel about cliche – I should also tell you that your father is alive and well and leading the Jaffa High Council on Dakara."

There was another silence, this one charged with so much emotion that it seemed the room would be consumed by it.

His father, alive! Teal'c had never even conceived of such a possibility. His father, First Prime to the harshest of all taskmasters, the false god Cronus. His father, the First Prime who had been killed for failing to carry out an impossible mission by that very same false god. His father, Ronac... alive! There were no words for what he was feeling. There were not enough words. There was only... there was only wonder, and hope, and fear, and joy, and anger, and envy, and so many, many other states of being. If only he could Kel'no'reem as once he had! It would take much meditation before such knowledge would cease to hold power over him, over his very core.

Sam and Daniel had never seen the Jaffa warrior look more emotionally wrought in the eight years they had known him. Daniel desperately wanted to press him on it, and press this present Jack on the circumstances surrounding this development, but the same eight years of acquaintance that had taught him faith in the Jaffa's stoic reserve had also given him enough insight to know that such a topic would simply be too painful, so immediately after the fact. He and Sam exchanged a glance, and with an almost indistinguishable nod of his head and flick of his eyelashes, he begged her to change the subject.

Sam was only too ready to acquiesce. "Well, uh, sir? Since we've sent Cam off to search Reese's planet—and then, y'know, die—I think my team and I could use a little downtime. You had quarters prepared for us, I think you said?"

The General nodded. "Sure thing, Sa—Colonel. It's getting late here, anyway. How about we reconvene in the AM... 0800?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay."

"Indeed."

"Right, then. This way."

Sam fell into step with Teal'c, putting a comforting hand on his arm and squeezing gently. He, to her surprise, took that hand in one of his own, and she felt him slowly drawing strength from her nearness. It touched her, that this proud, fearless warrior would so reveal his vulnerability to her in this moment of heartbreaking revelation. Despite her having taken command of the team upon General O'Neill's promotion, she had never really felt like the guys _needed _her as they had their former CO. The Colonel had been the glue that held their disparate personalities and skillsets together; without him, she felt that they three were merely close friends and colleagues working side by side, each as essential as the others, each with as much responsibilty for their success or failure. But here, in this moment, she felt that Teal'c needed her not only as his friend and comrade, but also as his leader, as someone he could turn to and be reassured that it was all going to be okay. It was a heady feeling, and one that Sam, despite the circumstances that had created it, would not have traded for anything.

Jack cocked a head at Daniel, and they walked a little ahead, side by side, leaving Teal'c in relative privacy with his head bowed, hand locked in Sam's. Neither said anything for a while, until Daniel decided it was time to truly mend some fences with this Jack—even if it wasn't _his _best-friend Jack, it was still _a _Jack, and he'd never really enjoyed their being on the outs for long.

"So... Data?" he asked, feigning puzzlement. "Really?"

"Hey, I wanted to call you C3PO, but Teal'c wouldn't let me."

"Good of him."

"Yeah, he thought it would be an insult to that prissy gold guy."

"I _really_ dislike you."

"I know. Isn't it great? Just like old times... that _we_, uh, never had."

"Hmm."

"If it's any consolation, I wanted to call Sam's robot Seven of Nine. Even suggested the whole silver catsuit thing."

"She objected?"

"What do you think?"

"I think she probably kicked your—Major Boyd!" Daniel exclaimed, coming to an abrupt halt. The others followed suit.

His hairline had retreated far enough that he had adopted a bootcamp-style buzz cut, and his face was craggier Daniel remembered it, but walking down the corridor, at the head of a team of two Airmen and one Marine, was definitely Major Henry Boyd, the leader of their reality's SG-10, lost to them several years earlier. Sam, who had still been a Captain the last time any of them had seen Major Boyd, stood straighter, and just barely managed to withhold a salute.

"Well, if it isn't the Not-Quite-SG-1! You sound surprised to see me, Doctor Jackson," Boyd said with a wry chuckle. "I'm dead, huh?"

"Um." Daniel said.

"Uh." Sam said.

"You and your team became trapped on a world that was orbiting a newly-formed singularity, Major Boyd," Teal'c informed him, his dour face and demeanor lending an appropriate solemnity to the recounting. "You did not make it back through the Stargate."

"Right. Thanks for the details, Teal'c."

"A newly-formed singularity... you mean the black hole planet where you sent the Aschen?" O'Neill cocked a brow at Sam.

"Yep."

"Indeed," Teal'c concurred. His frown lightened slightly. "We owe you and your team a debt of gratitude, Major. Your sacrifice, while a great tragedy for all that knew you, was ultimately not in vain." He gave the Major a very deep bow.

"Yeah, well, if it's not one thing, it's something else. Last alternate reality, I apparently got killed by a pterodactyl, so..." With a smile, he led his team in a salute for the General, and they moved on down the hall.

As he also resumed walking, Jack now fell into step with Sam. "Just out of curiosity, exactly where _is _this famous black hole? Y'never know when one might come in handy."

"It was a planet we designated P3W-451; a binary system with..." Sam trailed off, seeing the arrested look in the General's face.

"What is it?"

"Oh, nothing." O'Neill gave her a mirthless smile. "It's just... on our road map to the stars, we call that particular planet the Alpha Site."


	11. Chapter 11: Ass Backwards Land of No Fun

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon, Rodney McKay, Ba'al, Walter Harriman, George Hammond, Jennifer Hailey, Nyan, Simon Wells, Ian Hules, Reynolds, John Sheppard, Ke'ra, Bill Lee, Harlan, Cameron Mitchell, Henry Boyd.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers and References:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Children of the Gods (01.01), Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Prisoners (02.03), Fair Game (03.03), Learning Curve (03.05), Past and Present (03.11), Jolinar's Memories (03.12), The Devil You Know (03.13), New Ground (03.19), Double Jeopardy (04.14), 2010 (04.16), Prodigy (04.19), Exodus (04.22), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Proving Ground (05.13), Menace (05.19), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), Sight Unseen (6.13), The Changeling (06.19), Full Circle (07.01), Space Race (07.08), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02). Stargate Atlantis: Rising (01.01), Vegas (05.19)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

**Author's Note:** It has been so long since I updated this story, I am almost embarrassed to publish this new chapter. Forgive me! I would like to thank you for sticking with me, despite long, long (quite USA Network-worthy) delays. I would especially like to thank those of you who have come to the story in recent weeks and have wanted more... your Story Alert notifications have kept me coming back to this reality even as the image of the doughy, dull and dreary O'Neill of _Stargate Universe _threatened to forever keep me away...

**Author's Note, Part 2: **A _lot _of Jack-and-Sam-ness in here, apologies if it's not your thing. Back to the action (after a small dose of exposition) next chapter, I promise!

No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill. May contain nuts.

_**Not A Terrible Reality**_

_**Chapter 11: Ass-Backwards Land of No Fun**_

There was a knock at the door of the guest quarters to which she had been assigned. She should have been expecting it. In fact, if she were to really examine the inner recesses of her mind, she knew that she _had_ been expecting it ever since she'd been delivered to that very door only an hour earlier.

She opened it to see—not at all to her surprise—Brigadier General Jack O'Neill, commander of the SGC and her alter-ego's husband. He stood with one hand resting on the door frame and one foot kicked behind the other, the very essence of nonchalance. He was dressed in civilian clothes, jeans and a black long-sleeved T-shirt, a leather jacket flung across one shoulder. He was deliberately not looking at her, but at a point somewhere just above her left ear, an unreadable look on his handsome, if currently slightly haggard, face.

"Hello, sir," she said softly, with a half-smile. She stood aside to allow him to enter; he paused a minute, his eyes at last seeking hers.

"Ah, no, thanks. No. I won't come in. Not a social call. Just dropping by to let you know the results of the astrographic survey of our Alpha Site... you know, your blackhole planet."

"Yes, sir. I know."

He began to shift about uncomfortably, all signs of disinterest gone.

"Yes, well. Yes. I came to tell you..."

"That your resident astrophysicists have discovered no apparent signs of instability in either of the planet's suns, and that it seems likely whatever caused the singularity to occur in our universe has not, and will not, occur in yours."

"Huh. And you know this how?"

"McKay stopped by."

O'Neill bristled. "Oh, he did, did he?"

"Relax, sir, it was strictly a scientist-to-scientist discussion."

"And did you, perchance, conduct this scientist-to-scientist discussion wearing _that?_"

Sam blinked, and looked down at herself. Wearing _what? _All she had on was a standard BDU shirt over... oh. 

"I... uh... well, I _was _wearing... um... pants, then, sir."

"As opposed to now, if I might be so bold as to mention."

"Well, sir, I... well, yes." Her cheeks reddened adorably. "I concede your point. I seem to have... uh... removed them since."

Jack carefully kept his gaze north of this alternate Carter's navel, the sight of her long, long legs almost too much for his self-control; those long, long legs, soft and supple and strong, legs that were currently trying to hide behind the doorframe but would be much better employed wrapped around hi...

_Cut it out, Jack! _O'Neill ordered himself sternly. _She's not your Sam! She's some other Jack's Sam!_

Huh. Actually, no she wasn't. And, really, why the hell _was _that? He _had _to know!Was the other Jack some kind of honest-to-God, not-putting-it-on moron, to let this incredible woman _not _be his?

"Sir?" Sam's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Are you... are you sure you won't come in?"

"Well..." Jack rubbed the back of his neck. He probably shouldn't. No, he _definitely _shouldn't. But...

"Sure," he said quickly, before he changed his mind. "Thanks."

He stepped past her, and quickly scanned the room for somewhere to sit, carefully not looking at the bed, as she shut the door behind him. Sam stepped into a pair of grey sweats, and Jack wasn't sure if he was grateful or sorry for this belated show of modesty.

"Coffee, sir?" Sam held aloft a pot, purloined from the galley, steam still rising from it.

"Okay." Damn, he wished he'd brought beer. Maybe beer would make this easier... less awkward... less forbidden and intimate and downright sexy...

_Stop it, dammit! Sam would _kill _you! Really, really kill you; probably wouldn't even need her P-90, she'd do it with her bare hands..._

He wondered how this Sam's version of Jack O'Neill would feel about being alone with her in her quarters. Would he feel simple comradely affection, or a purely commander-to-subordinate professionalism? Would he feel anything? Nothing?

_Impossible!_

He turned to look at Sam.

"I... uh..."

"Sir?"

"I... oh, dammit, Sam!" He shook his head. "Colonel Carter. I just wanted to... I guess I'm just wondering..."

She caught on immediately.

"About... er... us, sir? Me and the... other you?"

_Of course she caught on immediaely! Smartest person in the galaxy, remember?_

"Well.. yeah." He answered diffidently. "How is it that we aren't.... that you aren't...?"

"You're not any better at talking about stuff in this universe, are you, sir?"

"Evidently not."

Sam gave him a smile that sent a familiar ache coursing through him, eyes going soft and taking on a faraway quality, as though fondly remembering other times when he – the other he – had been unable to speak of this... stuff.

"Well, sir," she proceeded to answer him, "in our universe, we have regulations. Air Force regulations about fraternisation between officers in the same chain of command. And also, regulations forbidding relationships between enlisted and commissioned personnel. Which you don't seem to have here?"

His brow furrowed. "No. Not at all. Hell, half the people on base would be in lock-up if we had that kind of insane rule. Walter and Davis could never have tied the knot, for starters—"

Sam did a double take. "Walter and Paul Davis are...?"

"Married? Sure. They had the ceremony a few years back. There was even talk of Walter changing his name. I think they even had new badges made. It's been kind of confusing, now that I think about it..."

"Well, sir, that's... that's great." Sam worked hard at keeping the shock off her face. "I just... it's not like that, for us. If it was..." she raised her eyes to his, emotion shining in their fathomless blue depths. "Well, sir, if it was like that, with no regs, then maybe there'd be a chance for..." she looked away, and then back at him, a smile playing about her lips. "... Walter and Davis."

He smiled in response. "And you'd want that? You'd want that chance for..." he paused, deliberately, "... Walter and Davis?"

"More than anything," she almost whispered, her eyes locked on his.

There was a charged silence as they stared into each other with bittersweet longing; Jack wishing she were his own Sam, and Sam wishing that her own Jack could, in fact, be hers.

She blinked away a light misting of regret, and struggled to regain her composure.

"So..." she said into the silence, "er... I guess I've been wondering, too, sir..." she trailed off.

"Yes?"

"How long have we... I mean, you and she..."

"How long have we been together?" O'Neill shrugged. "From the beginning, really. We've been married ten years next month, so..."

"Ten years?" Sam gulped. "I... uh... I only met my... I mean, our Colonel O'Neill eight years ago, when I was assigned to SG-1."

"Oh? My Sam and I met at the Stargate Academy. She was a first year cadet, and I was there to lecture on Death Glider battle tactics. I had such a hard time concentrating on the briefing; I just kept sneaking glances over at this gorgeous blonde in the third row... imagine my delight when she stayed back after class to ask me a question." A broad grin spead over his face. "She looked at me with those huge blue eyes – _your _eyes – and I knew right then I was pretty much done for."

Sam regarded him steadily. "Um. So, you met when I... when _she _was a cadet? And you a visiting lecturer of _what _rank?"

"Colonel."

"And you started seeing each other right away?"

"Yep."

"Right. Well." Sam took a moment to assimilate this. "That... I'm sorry, sir, but that just seems so _wrong._"

"Yes, I guess I can see where you _would _think that, coming from the Ass-Backwards Land of No Fun."

Sam bridled. "No, sir, I'm sorry, but there are very good reasons why relationships are forbidden within the same chain of command."

"Name one!" Jack challenged her.

"I can name dozens!" Sam shot back. "The likelihood of favoritism; the chance that a team's cohesion could be negatively affected; the risk of a commander making poor judgments to protect someone; or breaking down if that someone was lost in battle..."

"Ridiculous!"

"I'm not done!"

"Well, unless your alleged reasons get more reasonable, you might as well not bother."

"Sir!"

"No, Sam! Colonel Carter!" He grimaced. "Dammit!" He turned away from her.

She took pity on him. This wasn't easy on either of them, but she knew it could only be worse for him, husband to a missing wife who's twin was a constant reminder of what was currently lost.

"Uh, sir?" she said to his back, a little tentatively. "If it helps... our General O'Neill just calls me 'Carter'."

He turned around.

"Carter, huh?"

She nodded.

"Carter," he practiced saying it. Then he looked right at her. "Carter."

Sam felt a tingle run all the way down her spine. He made it sound like an endearment; there were times her own General O'Neill did the same.

"That's, uh, right." She took a breath. "Now, back to the regulations thing..."

"Carter!"

This time he also said her name in a tone she knew very well. Annoyance, coupled with an indulgent awareness of the futility of that annoyance.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I'm right about this, and so is the Air Force of my reality! We don't have to like it, but sometimes the right thing isn't the easy thing." She paused. "In fact, most of the time, the right thing is the hardest thing of all. But that doesn't make it any less right."

"But we're right, too!" Jack was quick to rebut. "Our regulations don't treat us like mindless slaves to emotion; they don't assume that we're going to screw everything up just because we're human enough to fall for someone under our command. Our regs trust us to do our jobs and do them well, just as we were trained to do them—regardless of our feelings. Your regs are insulting!"

Jack felt his breath quickening with the force of his argument, and made himself to calm down. Sam – no, Carter, she was definitely "Carter" to him now – was giving him an impenetrable gaze, clearly determined not to be swayed by his words, and yet could he detect just the tiniest hint, just the merest twinge, of doubt in her eyes?

"And who's to say that people's judgment isn't impaired, anyway, despite the fact that they can't openly admit their feelings in your universe?" he pressed his advantage. "Just because something's secret, doesn't mean it doesn't exist." He looked at her meaningfully, brown eyes conveying wordlessly that he recalled her implied admission from just minutes earlier. "Right?"

Sam nodded slowly, not trusting herself to say anything. She knew, to her shame, that this was all-too true. She thought back to the firefight on the P3X-666, when the then-Colonel O'Neill had taken a staff blast to the chest. She had abandoned her post and sprinted for the fallen O'Neill without a thought for the consequences; one of her biggest nightmares was that it was this dereliction of duty, this selfish need to run to the aid of someone for whom she cared so particularly, that had caused Janet Fraiser's death in that same melee.

Maybe he was right about this. Oh, not completely – a colonel dating a cadet was still inappropriate, in anyone's universe – but perhaps the fact that the Fraternisation Regulations made for a certain... uh... lack of transparency when it came to subscribed emotions endangered more lives than a full and open admission of tender feelings for one's comrades. Perhaps they _were _a little insulting.

_Not that I can ever admit that! _Sam sighed. _Or change it._

She blinked up at the General. "Agree to disagree, sir?"

"Agreed. And, on that note... goodnight."

He offered her a half smile, and turned to leave the room. Sam knew she should let him go. Of course she should let him go. But there was one thing he had said that was nagging at her. One thing that needed some clarification. One thing the might make him stay just a little longer...

"Uh, sir?" she interrupted his exit. "Just one last thing... the Stargate _Academy?"_


	12. Chapter 12: Let's Try This Again

**Characters:** Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c, Jonas Quinn, Janet Fraiser, Cassandra Fraiser, Paul Davis, Joe Faxon, Rodney McKay, Ba'al, Walter Harriman, George Hammond, Jennifer Hailey, Nyan, Simon Wells, Ian Hules, Reynolds, John Sheppard, Ke'ra, Bill Lee, Harlan, Cameron Mitchell, Henry Boyd.

**Category: **Team; distinct S/J.

**Takes Place:** Early Season 8, between the events of _Zero Hour (08.04) _and _Icon (08.05)_

**Spoilers and References:** Up till _Zero Hour (08.04)_, especially _Children of the Gods (01.01), Thor's Hammer (01.09) Singularity (01.14), Prisoners (02.03), Fair Game (03.03), Learning Curve (03.05), Past and Present (03.11), Jolinar's Memories (03.12), The Devil You Know (03.13), New Ground (03.19), Tangent (04.12), Double Jeopardy (04.14), 2010 (04.16), Prodigy (04.19), Exodus (04.22), Rite of Passage (05.06), 2001 (05.10), Proving Ground (05.13), Menace (05.19), Meridian (05.21), Cure (06.10), Sight Unseen (6.13), The Changeling (06.19), Full Circle (07.01), Space Race (07.08), Fallout (07.14), Heroes, Parts 1 and 2 (07.17, 07.18), New Order, Parts 1 and 2 (08.01, 08.02), Avatar (08.06), Affinity (08.07). Stargate Atlantis: Rising (01.01), Vegas (05.19)._

**Summary: **Sam, Daniel and Teal'c return from a routine mission to find themselves at an SGC that is not their own. Can they stand in for their counterparts, save Earth from a determined enemy, and help General O'Neill find his missing wife, all while finding a way home themselves?

**Author's Note:** A long time between drinks, again. Sorry, folks! Kind of you to stick around. And you reviewing-types make this _so _worthwhile... a thousand thanks.

No copyright infringement blah blah blah. You know the drill. Dry clean only.

_**Not A Terrible Reality**_

_**Chapter 11: Let's Try This Again**_

Sam checked her watch. A few minutes shy of 0800, when the briefing was slated to get underway. She slipped into her accustomed seat at the familiar conference table, feeling utterly at home and yet completely alien. It would be all too easy for her to forget where she was, forget who she _wasn't_, had it not been for two immediately apparrent discrepancies between this and her own universe's SGC briefing room. One, the golden wedding ring glinting on General O'Neill's finger; and two, sitting opposite her at the table, in full SGC field regalia... Ba'al.

He had gone with black BDUs on this occasion, an SG-7 patch on his arm. As grateful as she was to be in the blue – not wanting to be in anything that might identify her as being on the same team as _Ba'al_ of all people – she also had to admit he looked... well, pretty cool. She kind of wished _she _had a black uniform. Hmm. Something to think about.

She looked at Daniel, shifting around in the chair next to her, shooting periodic glares the way of the former Goa'uld System Lord who now went by the name of Bob, in between frantically attempting to decipher a stone tablet that had been brought in by an SG team throughout the night. The tiny writing was in a dialect that Daniel was convinced bore some relationship to that of Chinese tribes pre-dating the great Dynasties, and he was, of course, insanely excited about its doctrine-shattering implications.

"Yes, yes, that's it! It's some kind of number pattern, I see it now! That's a 3, and I'm not sure about that one, or that mark there... hmm, that's definitely a 7, assuming it comes from the same numerical derivation as the markings on the Dropa Stones..."

"The Dropa Stones?" Sam exclaimed, eyes widening. "Really?"

"Oh, yeah, didn't I mention?" Daniel pushed his glasses up his nose. "See the way the script follows the edges of the tablet, up, across, down, across?" His expressive hands traced the lines of writing in a circular motion. "It's very similar to the pattern of writing seen in the Dropas..."

Sam caught her breath. Evidence that the Dropa Stones were real! She could now understand Daniel's feverish determination to translate this artifact; its implications could be enormous to all that they knew about the history of alien life on Earth.

She glanced over at the tablet with a new respect. A light crease formed between her eyebrows as something tickled at her memory. She didn't notice the sideways glance General O'Neill sent her, a look of such longing in his bitter chocolate eyes that it would have made her heart ache.

"Tell me those numbers again?" she demanded, her brow clearing as an idea struck.

Daniel pointed to the first character. "That's 3. And this one," he pointed to another character, nine later, "is a 7. As you can see, they both recur throughout, but it's so random... look over here, there are three of _this _character all in a row..."

A smile spread across Sam's face. She pointed to the numbers.

"Those are the number 1."

"The number 1?"

"Yep. And see these there here?" she indicated another batch of three matching symbols next to one another. "These are fives."

"How do you know?"

Sam gave a little chuckle. "Daniel... it's pi."

"You have pie over there, Danny?" The General's interest was suddenly piqued.

Sam and Daniel shared a smile. Yet _another _similarity between this Jack and their own.

"No, sir. It's the radius-of-a-circle kind of pi... to what looks to be about, hmm, seven thousand digits."

Daniel caught his breath. "Which means... if this tablet is related to the Dropa stones..."

"And is as old as it looks..."

"Then an alien race with advanced mathematical capabilities..."

"Landed in China twelve thousand years ago."

Eyes bright with scholarly wonder, the two pored more closely over the tablet, Sam running through the numbers 0 through 9 until Daniel had all the symbols translated.

O'Neill watched the two scientists work in perfect harmony, as they always had, and couldn't help the twinge of jealousy that overcame him. There were even times when the kindred-spirit nature of his wife's relationship with his best friend was irksome, causing him feelings of envy and something very like inadequacy as their staggering intellects grappled with topics well beyond his ken. But seeing these two at it, seeing Carter and Daniel so in tune with one another, and not having the reassurance that she was married to _him_, was even worse.

"So, something landed in China twelve thousand years ago, eh?" he asked them now, trying hard to keep his emotions from revealing themselves.

"Yes. Well, according to the Dropa Stones." Daniel looked around the table, to McKay, Paul Davis, Ian Hules and, reluctantly, Ba'al. "Anyone?" They all shook their heads.

"I, too, am unfamiliar with these stones, Daniel Jackson."

"Really, Teal'c? I know Jonas found them fascinating... I'm surprised he never mentioned them to you."

"What did I never mention?" Jonas asked from the doorway.

"Ah, Jonas, good of you to join us."

"Sorry, sir. Traffic." Jonas shrugged.

Teal'c quirked an eyebrow. "Do you have accommodations off the base, Jonas Quinn?"

"Of course."

Teal'c directed a significant look Sam's way.

"I'm working on it, Teal'c," she assured him.

He gave her a small nod of acknowledgment.

"The stones?" General O'Neill demanded, impatiently. "You wanna fill us in, or do I have to break out some of the Keeper's Sensurround mind-reading chairs so we can all experience this fascinating archaeological breakthrough for ourselves?"

Daniel shot Sam a panicked look. She didn't blame him. Last time they had been in those chairs, they had relived the death of Daniel's parents over and over again for the entertainment of the planet's trapped inhabitants.

Why was she not surprised that this version of the SGC had found a use for the chairs? At least on that particular front, however, she had no need to covet their possession of the alien tech; scientists of her own SGC had been experimenting with them, as well, with a view to using them as training simulators. She wondered, fleetingly, how Bill Lee was progressing with that project... perhaps she should suggest Teal'c as a viable test subject for the veracity of the programming? Perhaps he'd even go for it, if she could offer up the promise of his own apartment off the base?

"The Dropa Stones," Daniel was saying, "are a collection of round stone tablets—"

"Hey, is that the artifact brought back by SG-96 last night?" Jonas demanded, belatedly catching on.

_SG-96? _Sam mouthed to Daniel in some amazement, to his understanding nod, as the General gave Jonas to know that it was indeed that self-same artifact, a fact of which he would have already been aware had he arrived at the briefing on time.

"Sorry, sir," he said again. "Go on, Dr. Jackson."

"Right. Where was I? Yes... The Dropa Stones are a collection of round stone tablets found in the BayanKara-Ulan Mountains, which form the common border between China and Tibet. The first one was unearthed in 1947 by Professor Chi Pu Tei, and was later deciphered by Professor Tsum Um Nui; a further 716 examples of the discs were found in subsequent years. It wasn't till 1965 that the Chinese Goverment permitted the publication of Professor Tsum's findings—"

Jack held up an exasperated hand. "Jeez, Daniel. You teaching a course on this at the Stargate Academy, or can we _please _get to the point?"

Just then, Walter Harriman entered the room with what looked like a portable Serrakan view screen in hand, and handed it to the General, along with a stylus. "Ah, urgent reports to sign," Jack groused. "_Thank_ you, Walter. Just what I always wanted."

"Any time, sir."

Daniel took the opportunity to lean in towards Sam, whispering: "The Stargate _what?_" Teal'c sent a glance her way, also clearly intrigued.

She smiled at them. "Tell you later."

As the General made his laborious way through his reports, huffing frequently, and the other SGC personnel seated around the table broke into various low-voiced discussions, Sam thought back to her conversation with the General the night before, her own incredulity at the concept of a Stargate Academy demanding satisfaction. She was sure her confusion had been evident to him, but he had merely answered her with a casual: "Sure. The Stargate Academy. Why? Where do you get your SG teams?"

"Well... uh. The Air Force, mostly, sir. Some Marines. And we've had a few personnel come over from NASA, of course.

"NASA?" His eyebrows had climbed.

"The National Aeronautics and Space Administration."

He had stared at her blankly.

"Um... they build space shuttles?"

"Space... _shuttles_, you say?"

"Yes, sir."

"Anyone ever go anywhere in these, ahem, 'space shuttles'?" She could hear his implied air quotes.

"Well... um... the moon?" Sam had hated the sound of apology in her voice.

"Ah."

She'd given him a keen-eyed look. "No space shuttles, huh?"

"Not so much." This syllable had sounded so dismissive that Sam had felt herself bridling a little. She had contemplated mentioning that the space shuttle had come in quite handy in saving O'Neill's own life – along with Teal'c's – when Apophis's booby trapped Death Glider had almost killed them in the cold silence of space, but she had decided, after a nanosecond's thought, that he wouldn't be impressed by even this evidence of their usefulness.

"Um, sir?" she had asked, redirecting the line iof inquiry. "Just _how_ long have you had the Stargate fully operational, again?"

"Since 1945."

"Wow. Uh, well, I guess you never needed NASA then, did you?"

"Well, no. Of course, it took you and Daniel – I mean, Sam and our Daniel – to really get the whole Gate network up and running for us, but we always knew we had the capability of inter-stellar travel. It was only that we could only get to the one damned planet."

"Abydos?"

"No. We call it the First Planet. P3X... something or other."

"Oh. Okay." Of course, they were almost _all _P3X something or other...

"Then about ten years later, Vice President Langford – she was Dr. Langford, then – figured out the address for Abydos. After that, we'd use Abydos as a kind of staging area, while we tried different combinations of addresses on their DHD, and every now and then we'd get a hit, get an actual Stargate, and we'd go through and check it out... But it wasn't until Daniel visited Abydos on a high school field trip that anyone realised we'd had a damned Stargate street directory all along. He just took one look at those markings on the walls and figured them for Gate addresses... a whole bunch of Gate addresses, right there, under our noses the whole time!"

He'd shaken his head in remembered chagrin, tinged with a kind of wondering admiration.

"Didn't make Daniel too popular with the archaeological community back here, of course. They got their collective noses put out of joint by this skinny, floppy-haired kid with the big brain—I heard a bunch of them got together, tried to gang up on him, not let him into college. But he got there despite them. Got into Vassar!"

Jack had fairly beamed with pride.

"Vassar? The women's college?"

"No. Vassar, the both sexes college. Vassar, the top school in the country, if not the on the planet?"

"Oh. Yes. Of... course."

"And _you!" _the General went on. "Boy, did the science types not see you coming! Here you were, straight out of the Academy, and completely revolutionizing the SGCs understanding of wormhole physics." He'd given her a crooked grin. "I wish I could say I did something to help you get ahead, that being my girlfriend was of some kind of benefit to your career... but, of course, it was all you. And when you figured out how to get the dialling computer to compensate for galactic drift, so that we could go to the Jackson Cartouche planets straight from Earth... well, let's just say, your stock rose about a gajillion points around the SGC halls." His brown eyes had turned impish. "As an extra special bonus, you got to have dinner with the President... and we all know at a thrill _that _is."

"Was it Dr. Weir then?"

"No," O'Neill had grimaced, admitting reluctantly: "she's actually one of the good guys. It was... _Kinsey._" He'd said the word with such loathing that it had filled Sam with an overwhelming feeling of homesickness.

"Happily, the toad got himself impeached and kicked out of office on corruption charges a few years later, so... well. All's well that ends with Kinsey disgraced."

"Yes, sir," Sam had agreed, with feeling.

"You have a Kinsey, too, huh?"

"'Fraid so."

"He disgraced?"

"Yep."

"Nice."

They had shared a moment of cheerful camaraderie, a kind of mutual satisfaction at a job well done, to have someone of the low rent caliber of former Vice President (or in the current universe's case, former _President_) Kinsey, no longer in possession of the power he had craved in either of their realities. Their eyes had locked, and the amusement in both had slowly turned into something... else. Something neither of them wanted to acknowledge, or even name. Something that spelled all kinds of trouble.

"I believe the phrase is 'Danger, Bill Robinson! Danger!'" the General had said, softly. "Do you know that one?"

"Well, it's _Will_ Robinson, but, uh... I get the reference."

"Oh, good. 'Cause my staying here late into the night trying to explain the deep cultural significance of _Lost in the Cosmos _could lead to..."

"Um... us being late for the morning briefing, sir?"

"Exactly." The silence had stretched, and become awkward. Sam had furiously tried to avoid the General's gaze, just as she knew he was trying to avoid her's, and neither of them were at all successful. Precisely what either of them had been referring to, when speaking of 'late,' she didn't dare guess... everything with this Jack was getting just as full of nuance and double meaning as conversations were wont to get with her own version of the man.

"So." The General was the first to break the silence. "Let's try this again: _on that note_..."

"Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight... Carter."

This last, almost whispered, word had sent her to bed with a smile on her face. And when she had awoken, it had still been there. She had hurried to dress, to down the breakfast kindly delivered to her door by the Airman stationed outside it, and to make it to the briefing as soon as she could. She had wanted nothing more than a moment or two with her _de facto _commanding officer... she'd had to make do with a particularly bland-faced look in which his expressive eyes said more than she imagined anyone else would ever know.

She half-listened, now, as Daniel told Teal'c more of the history of the Dropa Stones, as Jonas and Ba'al – no, _Bob_ – discussed some form of Goa'uld torture device recently found in the inventory of the former System Lord's possessions, as Davis and Sergeant Harriman talked over their plans for dinner that evening, but she was mostly lost in recollection of the night before, and of the past eight years on the other side of what this Jack called the looking glass.

This Jack looked up to catch her gaze upon him. He twitched his lips as she felt herself blush, and wish that the conference table had a hole in which she could slide herself, along with its hidden Serrakan viewscreen. He gave her a slow blink and a crinkle at the eyes, which she interpreted in O'Neill Body Language as "Don't worry, I get it, it's okay, we're okay." She could only hope that the many degrees of meaning Jack O'Neill could put into the slightest of facial twitches was a universal constant, like gravity, or the speed of light.

Jack looked up and caught Carter's gaze upon him. He had to withhold a chuckle as her cheeks took on a delicate pink hue, and he imagined she was probably recalling their _tete-a-tete _of the night before. Truth be told, he'd barely thought about anything else himself, since. For all that seeing her here made him miss his wife all the more, there was also something... _something _happening between him and Carter, and he knew that she was feeling it, too. He could tell she was worried about it, and he wanted her to stop; to know that he understood, that it was alright and that everything was fine between them. He could only hope she got the message.

He looked down and saw, to his relief, that he had just skimmed through the last report... at least, the last report for the next hour or so. He scrawled his name with the stylus, grunting in frustration when he had to repeat the action when the software encountered a glitch— how he missed pen and paper technology, sometimes!—and handed the datapad back to Walter, who was in conversation with his husband.

"Yes, well, let's perhaps discuss the menu for your anniversary celebration at a later time, shall we, gentlemen?" he suggested to the two men somewhat archly, but without rancor. "I believe we have a meeting to get under way here, and if we're all present and accounted for—ah, _are_ we all present and accounted for, Major Hules?"

Hules looked up from his own datapad, and shook his head.

"Actually, no sir, not quite yet. There has been some delay, but it shouldn't be too long now—"

It was at that exact moment that an Aschen known to SG-1 as Mollem came sauntering into the room, an incongruous smile on his face, as though he were perfectly at home.


End file.
